In a moment of impulsivity, I signed up for a new running event in Portland, Oregon, known as the 8 Track Relay—a unique 24-hour relay race paired with a nostalgic ’70s music festival. My only connection to the team was a friend named Sarah, who had posted on social media seeking an additional member, even if it was just for one four-mile leg. I thought to myself, “I can definitely handle four miles.”
When the Flying Flamingos assembled for the first time, I found myself surrounded by seven incredibly fit women in their forties, discussing their recent marathon experiences. The only thing that prevented me from backing out was the team’s cheerful insistence that they were there for fun, not competition. “We’re just here to enjoy ourselves!” they chirped enthusiastically. Our captain conducted a survey to see how many four-mile legs each Flamingo could commit to; I was the sole member who opted for just one leg, while most of them signed up for four legs—totaling an impressive 16 miles.
Taking the captain aside, I attempted to explain, in the most casual way possible, that I had diabetes. I didn’t require any special accommodations, just a little awareness. She looked at me as if I had just declared an emergency, her expression fraught with concern.
Living with Type I diabetes means that if I don’t have enough insulin, my blood sugar can rise to dangerous levels, leading to both short- and long-term complications. Conversely, too much insulin can cause my blood sugar to drop too low, resulting in symptoms such as confusion, irritability, and in severe cases, loss of consciousness or seizures. I rely on an insulin pump around the clock and monitor my blood sugar levels approximately six times daily.
Exercise complicates diabetes management, as physical activity lowers blood sugar levels. This makes running particularly challenging, requiring constant monitoring and adjustments to my insulin and food intake. As a result, I consider myself a casual runner; longer distances usually present too many obstacles.
As my race approached at 4 p.m., I worried I wouldn’t have time to apply anti-chafing gel to my thighs before the start, especially in the sweltering 90-degree heat. To add to my anxiety, extreme heat tends to lower blood sugar levels. I conducted a quick glucose test, discovering that my levels were lower than I preferred. I quickly consumed a few jelly beans before heading to the handoff area.
Squinting against the sun, I spotted my teammate’s hot pink shirt approaching. She dashed through, handing me the timing chip—disguised in an 8-track tape of “The Hustle.” I took off, feeling strong and energized.
However, halfway through the course, I began to feel the telltale shakiness in my limbs. I reached for a GU pack and forced it down, cursing myself for not testing it beforehand. The taste was horrendous, and I feared I might vomit. I texted my teammates: “MILE 3, WALKING.” In truth, I was barely walking. A fellow runner checked on me as I passed. “Are you OK?” they asked. “Yup!” I fibbed, though my legs were wobbling. I knew that if I sat down, I might not get back up, but if I continued, I risked passing out. My initial goal had been to maintain a mid-pack pace, but now I silently urged myself, “Just cross the finish line on your feet.”
Eventually, the GU kicked in, and I managed a slow jog for the final quarter mile. Only I understood that my less-than-stellar time was, in fact, a personal triumph. I was still upright and devouring the jelly beans I’d stashed with a teammate like they were my lifeline.
Determined to avoid being seen as weak, I opted to run a second leg, set to begin around 1:30 a.m. I stayed awake in my tent, monitoring my blood sugar every thirty minutes and consuming jelly beans to keep my levels stable. As 1 a.m. approached, I headed to the relay area and was shocked to discover that the Flamingos were in second place overall.
Sarah stormed through, sprinting with incredible speed. “What’s with the pace?” I yelled as she passed me the 8-track tape. My blood sugar stable, I charged through the course in the cool night air, illuminated by a brilliant full moon while enjoying Radiohead’s In Rainbows. It felt nothing short of magical. At mile three, I sent a text to my next teammate to get ready. I completed my leg with a personal record, experiencing the best runner’s high of my life and proudly holding the title of the slowest member of the fastest women’s team at the inaugural 8 Track Relay Race.
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In summary, participating in the 8 Track Relay not only challenged my physical limits but also taught me about resilience and adaptation. Despite my diabetes, I found joy and accomplishment in the experience, all while running with an inspiring group of women.
Keyphrase: relay race experience
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