2015 Shotover Marathon Queenstown, 42km
Ups and downs: Shotover Moonlight Mountain Marathon
I just completed the toughest marathon of my life.
The Shotover Moonlight Mountain Marathon is a 42km trail run through the mountains of Queenstown, in New Zealand. The course is brutal and unforgiving. Competitors gain around 2.5km in elevation over steep trails and navigate some nerve-jangling descents. Duncan is no stranger to challenges like this and he doesn’t let having type 1 diabetes get in the way.
“Duncan talked to us about his race. He says it’s not a fairy tale and he doesn’t win. He says that at times diabetes feels like it gets in the way, makes things more difficult, or is unfair - but he also says diabetes should never be an excuse. His view is that it makes you stronger, more resilient and more adaptive. He runs to show that with diabetes you can live your life the way you want.”
- Connect Magazine, the magazine of Diabetes NSW and ACT.
We asked him what he learned from his mountain marathon. This is what he told us.
I knew the race was going to be hard, that’s why I entered. I’d been training well, but after 12km I realized that things were about to get a whole lot harder.
I’d struck a problem, a big one. I was only a third of the way round and my blood glucose meter broke. I could have given up, or taken an easier option by diverting to the short course, but diabetes throws you challenges like this all the time. Challenges to work through, or work around. That’s the hard part of diabetes but - when you look back on it - it’s also the most rewarding part.
Sometimes you can be tempted to use diabetes as an excuse… to explain why you’re grumpy… why you’re slower… why you’re tired… why you can’t get out of bed. At one point, somewhere in the mountains of Queenstown, I was tempted. I wanted something to blame, I wanted an excuse. I wanted to use diabetes as a negative. But, using diabetes in a negative way helps no-one. It won’t help you, or me, or kids growing up with diabetes. In fact, using diabetes as an excuse will damage you, will make you bitter and resentful. Worse, it might extinguish your hope; worse still, extinguish the hopes of kids getting diagnosed right now. So when my blood test meter failed, I resisted the temptation to find an excuse.
Instead, I used diabetes in a positive way and this is what happened.
I’d stopped running at the 12km point to test my blood glucose. I still had 30km and two daunting climbs ahead of me and it was here where the yellow text on the screen of my blood testing meter flashed [Meter error: Retest].
‘No way’ I muttered.
Another minute ticked by as I wiped my finger clean, snapped another lancet into my finger and followed the meter’s instruction once more. The second and third retests were no different [Meter error: Retest].
‘OH, COME ON!!!’ I shouted at myself.
A competitor running past called out ‘You okay?’
‘Yeah… I’m okay’ I replied, lying.
I was seething.
With my testing kit broken I had to rely on my instinct. My instinct told me my blood glucose was high. I didn’t feel like it was low. And that’s why I’d stopped for the test. I’d felt particularly thirsty, my heart was pounding and I had that metallic hyper feeling under my skin – like my veins were full of rusty water, not oxygenated blood. I knew I’d started the race with high blood glucose levels, my meter had worked at the start and recorded [18.6] – way too high. Back at the start I knew it would drop once I was underway.
This was a grueling course, I’d already gained around 1000m in elevation. I knew my blood glucose was likely to be lower than when I started, but I thought it was still too high and I needed a shot of insulin to get me back on track and feeling better.
Instead – with a busted meter and no certainty of my blood glucose levels – I decided injecting insulin was important but too risky. My level could be lower than I thought and I still had 3km to run to the summit and the next checkpoint.
Now, it was time for Plan B.
Unfortunately Plan B was back in the car. Plan B was to carry a spare meter just in case this sort of thing happens when I am running. I’d carried a spare meter in my race pack for the whole of the Big Red Run in 2013 and never needed it. So before the start, I’d pulled my spare meter out of my race pack and left it in the car to save a few ounces of weight.
So, with no Plan B, now it was time for Plan C.
Plan C is the plan every diabetic learns. Plan C is to adapt. To respond. To be resilient. Right then Plan C was to eat a bit more – on the basis that getting even higher blood glucose was better than getting too low. Plan C was also to continue. Plan C meant I would finish. My Shotover marathon was not shot-through, but it was suffering.
I was suffering and I was tempted to blame diabetes.
I could have stopped. The course was designed to be brutal, brutal but fair. At each check point there was an option to withdraw from the race, or to divert to a shorter course. A tempting get-out-of-jail card. At the next check point I could divert to the shorter course and avoid the second more challenging peak. There was also a compulsory cut-off at the half way point - at Ben Lomond Lodge - where the medical team would pull you out for your own safety if you were too slow, or they felt you were in danger.
I could have stopped… afterall, I had a tempting excuse.
My meter was broken but I didn’t stop. I carried on to the next check point. When I got there I tested my blood glucose again [Meter error: Retest]. I explained what happened to the race marshal and asked her to radio through to find out whether the medical team at the half way point had a blood glucose meter.
They did.
I still felt like my blood glucose level was high, I’d had no insulin since well before the start but I’d been eating gels, nuts and electrolytes on the way round to keep my glucose level up. I’d told the race marshals that risk of an incident was low (it was), and I knew the medical team was ready to respond in the unlikely event of an emergency.
I went on.
After another 8km of amazing scenery and dramatic ascents and descents I got to Ben Lomond Lodge. It was half-way and the medical team was waiting. They tested using their kit [Reading: 12.3]. That was good under the circumstances. Their working meter had to stay with them at Ben Lomond, so I pulled out my own testing kit again. This time, it worked [Reading: 12.6]. I waited a minute or two and checked again, but this time it didn’t work [Meter error: Retest]. With a temperamental blood glucose testing kit I still didn’t want to risk an insulin injection. I certainly wouldn’t be confident relying on instinct alone to judge dropping levels and possible hypo. The good news was that I was well ahead of the cut off time, I was okay and I was being sensible. The marshals were happy for me to continue.
I went on with no excuses.
I finished the race. It took me over eight-and-a-half hours. There was no emergency, but the lack of insulin for all that time and my lack of confidence in my blood glucose levels had made it super tough.
Plan C had worked, it always does.
I finished just outside the top 100 overall and was in the top 20 for my age group. I was ahead of 60 other finishers, and many others who pulled out or switched to the shorter course during the race. I’d persevered. That’s the strength and the resilience you get from having diabetes. That’s Plan C.
At the finish line, I gave into temptation – it happens when the competitive itch has been scratched. I started imagining that I might have run faster without diabetes. Or, that with a working meter and more insulin I might have been stronger and finished higher. Then I spoke to other runners who told me their stories. They said it was their slowest marathon time by hours, some said it was the hardest race they’d entered, others said they’d had problems of their own or withdrawn part way through because it was so tough. My self-pity didn’t last long. I was a finisher.
I knew that I had finished precisely because I had diabetes. I also knew that without diabetes I might not have started, or even taken part in this great adventure. Without diabetes I’m sure I would not have had the resilience, or mind-set, to adapt to such an extreme challenge, or to overcome a set-back. I reminded myself then that diabetes is and will always be part of me. I’ve learned to embrace it, it’s my life, and we only get one chance at that. I stopped thinking of excuses. I started to celebrate an incredible race, an astounding achievement and a truly remarkable landscape which I’d enjoyed with some amazing athletes.
Another experience I am better and fitter for having.
My lesson is that there is no point using diabetes as an excuse, or longing for someone else’s life. The grass may seem greener, but our diabetic bodies and our minds are amazing just as they are. There is no point in dwelling on ‘what if?’
Not everything that you do will be easy, but having diabetes gives you something unique. Use it positively.
Recovery - reflecting on lessons learned
Ultimate Direction Shotover Moonlight Mountain Marathon
Where: Ben Lomond High Country Station, Queenstown New Zealand
When: Saturday, 21 February 2015
Distance: 42km
Vertical gain: Approximately 2500m
Marathon entrants: 300
Marathon finishers: 167
Fastest time: 5hrs 16 minutes
Last finisher: 10hrs 45 minutes
Organiser: Active QT