Last Tuesday (2 December) was a day of mixed emotions.

I had arranged to meet my training buddy Alasdair McDougall (Dougal) early in the morning at the Cairngorm ski car park for a 2 hours 30 minutes mountain run. Conditions were perfect for my training for the Ice Ultra with clear blue skies and the mountain weather forecast was to be -12 on the summits with severe wind-chill also. We left the car park fully kitted out for all eventualities that may occur not wanting to have to call out the mountain rescue like happened to a runner last week who got lost while running in only shorts and a t-shirt.

The Cairngorms had its first real infestation of snow which made underfoot conditions hard going but great simulation for my upcoming Ice Ultra race. I had a Dexcom G4 continuous glucose (CGM) sensor attached to me which via Bluetooth sends a signal to my Animas Vibe insulin pump and gives me blood glucose (BG) levels although a slight real time delay (approx. 10-15minutes) but more importantly BG trend arrows. Although I had CGM I still stopped on a few occasions to do manual tests with my OneTouch BG meter, reason for this was to make sure my Armadillo Merino gloves were doing their job and I could have good circulation to get blood from my finger tips with my lancet to do a manual test. When myself and Dougal reached the summit conditions were very clear but with high winds and severe cold temperatures it wasn’t somewhere you’d want to stop for a picnic. With the first real test of 2014 in the cold complete for my clothing and diabetes kit with no issues for either I was a very happy bunny, I said my goodbye to Dougal and drove the 45 minutes’ drive back to Inverness with the heating full on in what was becoming a steamed up car.

Later that day I received a phone call which made my day completely crumble, it was from the organisers of the Ice Ultra to say that due to lack of entries they have been left with no option but to cancel the 2015 race. I initially felt sick but now I fully respect and understand why this tough decision had to be made.

Now that dust has settled I’ve realised it’s just a minor blip in my quest to show that living with type 1 diabetes shouldn’t stop anyone achieving their goals and dreams. There are always going be set backs and knock backs in life, so rather than dwell on it, I’ve gone back to the drawing board and am more determined than ever. I have decided to run the 72 miles single day Great Glen Ultra  in July which finishes in my home city of Inverness with beautiful landscapes and views. As far as going and doing a severely cold multi day Ultra, I have an event in the pipeline for 2016 but for now let’s just say,”Watch this space”!

 

Racing through the Arctic snow presents a brand new set of challenges that most runners never need to think about. In simple terms: It’s a harsh, unforgiving environment. But it’s more than that. It’s an experience that challenges what you think you know and it asks questions of your body and mind that rarely crop up in day to day life.

By day, if the weather is favourable, it is commonly around minus 10-15 degrees centigrade and it’s actually a pleasant set of conditions in which to run. Get your layers right and you can manage your core temperature, limit your sweating and still stay warm enough that your extremities don’t complain.

At night (or any time of day if the weather is not playing ball) it can easily dip to minus 40 degrees. For want of a better phrase, that is PROPER cold. At this temperature exposed skin will be immediately sore and frost-nipped within seconds and if not addressed will quickly develop into extremity-threatening and (more importantly..!) race–stopping frostbite. When racing in conditions like this, athletes need to carry sleep and bivvy systems that allow them to survive for a couple of days should they be isolated by changes in weather or injury, food to support this type of isolation and fire starting / water boiling equipment to allow you to melt snow and sustain your fluids. Add this to medical supplies, GPS trackers, Sat Phones, snow shoes and a multitude of clothing and layering options and you can see how the racers pack needs to have a capacity that would put Mary Poppins’ carpet bag to shame!

As the younger brother of a type-1 diabetic, I have watched Roddy’s increasingly regular forays into the extreme with great interest.

I have been lucky enough to travel half way round the world to take part in ultramarathons to add to the incredibly challenging races we have right here in the UK; I’ve run up and down mountains, across frozen lakes and through night and day (and night again) to finish races, I’ve even raced on a 4 mile trail loop for 24hrs straight (don’t ask..) and have enjoyed almost every minute. It’s been tough, exhausting, emotional and physically damaging but I’ve done it unburdened by an insulin pump, I could eat what I felt like when I felt like it and I knew that the ramifications of balancing calorific intake and insulin to offset it was silently and comfortably managed by my own pancreas. As such, I have nothing but admiration for Roddy in what he’s doing and I think it will be a fantastic test of his resolute determination, his diabetic control and the equipment and technology that will support him.

My brother was diagnosed as an 11 month old baby in 1976 and my parents were provided with a glass syringe and an orange to practise on. Dietary control, incredible parental and subsequently individual dedication were the staples that ensure he survived and in fact flourished sufficiently to be heading for his 40^th birthday next March. I am in absolute awe of his stoic determination to deal with this chronic illness, the support my folks gave him to learn to manage this himself and I equally admire every person affected by diabetes to just simply deal with it and fulfil their dreams and ambitions. I am also incredibly grateful to the researchers, developers, medical professionals and scientists that have worked tirelessly to ensure the experiences of newly diagnosed diabetics are a quantum leap from those faced by no-doubt terrified parents in 1976.

Garry is co-founder of extreme event organisers Breaking Strain

www.breakingstrain.co.uk

I always needed a goal when I was a racing cyclist, whether it was the hour record, the Commonwealth Games or the FBD Milk Ras in Ireland. I used to enjoy building my season around a single, big target.

Since being diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes in 2010, when I was 40, I have adopted the same attitude – setting myself big goals and working hard towards them. It led me in 2013 to tackle the Marathon des Sables, the six-day, 254km race across the Sahara Desert that is billed as the ‘toughest foot race in the world’.

It was savage under the Saharan sun, but I did it: I finished the Marathon des Sables.

And I was completely blown away by the reaction from people, and how much it raised – in terms of both awareness of what is possible with Type 1 Diabetes and funds for charity.

Through press interest, local talks and then invitations to speak all over Britain, there was a snowball effect and I realised the Marathon des Sables was the beginning, not the end. I had to do something else.

When I began to think about what to do next it occurred to me that I should go to the other extreme: the ice and cold of the Arctic – so in February 2015 I will take part in the Arctic Ultra Marathon, a four-day, 230km self-sufficient running race – although on snow and ice it is likely to be more of a shuffle than a run.

Although I live in the Highlands of Scotland close to some big mountains which are covered in snow during the winter, this is a tough one for me – I hate the cold.

Until being diagnosed with diabetes my sporting background was mainly cycling. I had done the London Marathon and the Highland Cross bike/run duathlon (winning this in 1997), but my first love was cycle racing.

I started racing when I was 13, having taken part in my first club run on my BMX. Progressing to 10-mile time trials with the Clachnacuddin Cycling Club near my home in Inverness, I began doing schoolboy road races, but I was small for my age and found them difficult. In fact, I got an absolute kicking. It was only in my final year as a junior that I started competing, finishing third in the Scottish junior road race and second in the road race Best All Rounder.

As a senior I found that a lot of the guys who’d beaten me as a junior gave up.

But I stuck at it, travelling from home in Inverness, often making seven- or eight-hour round trips, to race in Scotland, then embarking on even longer journeys to compete in England. I was selected for Scotland for the first time in 1989, and the following year I had my biggest wins so far – a stage of the Girvan Three-Day at Easter, and then a stage of the legendary FBD Milk Ras, the nine-day race in Ireland, ahead of Patrick Jonker, an Australian who went on to a successful professional career.

I found that I loved stage racing, and relished testing myself against some of the best riders in the world. One of the performances that gives me most pride is 9th overall in the 1993 Ruban Granitier, a brutal race in Brittany, where I was also third on a stage, ahead of Jeroen Blijlevens, a Dutchman who went on to win four stages of the Tour de France.

One of the things that helped me in stage races was my ability to recover. When others started tiring I found that I felt stronger. I remember standing on the start line of the Ruban Grainitier one morning, four or five days into the race, and taking my pulse. I was amazed: it was 38.

But the other thing I loved, as I mentioned at the start, was fixing my sights on a big goal.

In 1994 it was the Commonwealth Games, by which time I was training in a completely different way. I had been inspired by reading about the scientific training Chris Boardman, the 1992 Olympic pursuit champion, had been doing with his coach, Peter Keen. And I started working with a sports scientist, Richard Davidson, who had grown up nearby, on the Black Isle.

Working with Richard meant training less but more intelligently. The volume was slashed. I went from training 16 hours a week to just 8 or 9 hours. But a lot of my old training had just been wearing out my tyres. I emphasised quality rather than quantity: I trained less but much harder. I got a lot more out of myself. And, crucially, I had more recovery time.

This training served me well for the Commonwealth Games in Victoria, Canada – the first time the Games were open to professionals – where I finished 9th in the road race. The following year I needed a new target, and so I picked an unusual one – the Scottish hour record. It was held by none other than Graeme Obree, who had broken the world record in Norway in 1993, but it all came together on one of my toughest ever days on a bike, and I managed to beat Graeme’s record.

I retired in 1996 having finished 4th overall in the Ras for the second time, then came back in 2000. And when I wasn’t cycling, I was keeping fit, running the London Marathon and taking part in other events, including adventure races. I was completely unprepared for the news, when I was 40, that I had Type 1 Diabetes.

The signs of my Type 1 Diabetes had been there a while, though I didn’t know that. All of a sudden I began having health issues: severe weight loss – three stone in about 6 weeks; I had an unquenchable thirst; I was never out of the toilet; I was extremely tired; and my eyesight seemed to be deteriorating.

Unusually, it was a year in which I actually had no sporting goals. I was a family man, with two children and another one on the way. But when I went to see my doctor, and explained my symptoms, he immediately referred me to the hospital. A sign of how oblivious I was to my true state of health was that I cycled there.

One of the first things they told me, once they had diagnosed Type 1 Diabetes, was that my fitness had kept me going. Because I was in a bad way: my blood glucose level that day was 45.6mml/L. A person without diabetes is between 4 and 7mmol/L.

The clinic staff were superb. They weren’t keen for me to start running or cycling at first, but after two months I was able to build my fitness back up. It was this training that led me to do the Marathon des Sables, and now the Arctic Ice Ultra Marathon.

What’s it all about? Basically, I want to prove to people that diabetes shouldn’t be a barrier to leading a normal life. Yes, I have had to adapt and learn how to manage my blood sugar effectively; Before every meal, at bed time and first thing in the morning, I prick my finger and test my blood; when it comes to diet, I look at what’s in front of me more than I used to; and I can tell, just from looking, how many units of insulin I need to get via my Animas Vibe insulin pump. It was tougher to manage in the early days, but now I am expert at keeping my blood glucose level within a normal person’s range and this is precisely because I’m exercising and eating properly. In other words I’ve tried to absorb being Type 1 Diabetic into my normal life rather than the other way around, I certainly don’t feel any different.

In the desert it was more difficult to monitor and manage this – and it will be even tougher in the Arctic. The challenge is to keep my sugar levels within a safe range, which means being rigged up to a continuous glucose monitor 24/7. I have to calibrate it in the morning and at night, but when I’m running I can see what my level trend is at all times, and take immediate action if it starts to increase or decrease.

The Marathon des Sables was the toughest challenge I had ever taken on. I expect the Arctic to be, for somebody like me who hates the cold, even harder. If I succeed then I will be the first Type 1 diabetic ever to finish both these events. The motivation for me remains the same: to raise awareness of diabetes and to demonstrate that it shouldn’t be a barrier to doing things – even things that seem as crazy as the Marathon des Sables or Arctic Ultra Marathon!

 

Saturday 26 April was certainly a very interesting day as far as sport and my type 1 diabetes goes.

The day would be a reunion with a group of runner friends. We call ourselves the ‘Tartan Army’ and we met sharing a bivouac last year in the Marathon de Sables – the notorious six-day ultra marathon that takes place in the Sahara desert. But this reunion wasn’t for a catch-up and a beer. We were running again, in the 53-mile Highland Fling Ultra Marathon from Milngavie to Tyndrum in the West Highlands.

On the Friday night, I travelled down to Glasgow to stay at my friend Derek’s house along with another two members of the bivouac. We headed to his house for a three course meal which left me going to bed with my blood glucose (BG) higher than I normally like. We had porridge for breakfast at 3.30am, which raised my BG again. As a result, I was constantly doing BG tests on the way to the race to make sure it was at a safe level before the start. I lined up at 6am with 799 other competitors – happy I finally had my levels under control.

Throughout the race there were four food drop-off stations which doubled up as timing-chip check points. I had pre made my drop-off bags with energy drinks, bars and gels which would be waiting for me at each station. I ran with a continuous glucose monitor (CGM) which, via Bluetooth, told my insulin pump my BG levels and in what direction they were going. This is really beneficial during events as I don’t have to stop so often to do blood test readings.

All was going very well until I reached the 18 mile mark. I had started my descent down to Loch Lomond when I felt something wasn’t right. It turned out to be my worst fear – the cannula for my insulin pump had detached from my belly. I had to make some quick and serious decisions before arriving at food pick-up point one. Do I risk carrying on with no insulin or do I take a break? I decided on the latter. I got to the check point and got handed my food bag, but I knew I couldn’t take carbohydrates on board without insulin. I took only an energy bar and a gel and put them in my bum-bag, just in case my BG dipped too low and caused a hypo.

I filled my camelback with water and set off into the unknown.

This was where I really started juggling the books. I used the effort I was putting in to help control my BG levels. If I saw the trend arrows on my CGM dipping, I put in more effort knowing adrenaline along with intense effort would help raise my levels. If I saw them going up too much, I took the foot off the gas to let them lower. At each food pick-up I continued to take only water, knowing I couldn’t risk a high BG level by taking carbohydrates. I ran the last 35 miles on water alone and finished surprisingly strong. In the final 12 mile section I caught up with around 30 runners and finished 173rd in a time of 10 hours 47 mins.

Having downloaded my CGM readings they showed that from 6am to 4.47pm that day my BG was almost within a range similar to a person without diabetes. Pretty good, considering I was running into the total unknown.

I did eventually get a beer with the Tartan Army. It’s been suggested that for the next reunion to miss out the run and just have a beer!

 

This article was first published by JDRF at the following website address http://www.jdrf.org.uk/news/jdrf-type-1-diabetes-blog/running-into-the-blood-glucose-unknown-by-roddy-riddle

Last April I ran a gruelling 154 mile footrace in the Sahara desert known as the Marathon des Sables (MdS). As a type 1 diabetic, my main aim of completing this was to raise money for JDRF and Diabetes UK. With the overwhelming generosity of friends, family and other generally nice people, I raised £26,000 split between the two charities.

I always said if I completed this then I would finally retire…well, it looks like that’s not happening!

I want to prove to myself and others that having type 1 diabetes doesn’t have to rule out the toughest of endurance challenges. So to push the boundaries, I have decided to participate in the Arctic Ice Ultra Marathon in February 2015. Spread over four days, this is a 155 mile run in temperatures of minus 30 degrees – a deficit of 82 degrees in comparison to the MdS.

There are a lot of things to think about when preparing myself for this challenge, such as how my insulin pump and blood glucose monitor will cope in these cold extremities. On the plus side, I live in Inverness, so coming out of a winter from up here will certainly make it easier when preparing for this adventure!

Most of my training from now until the race will consist of running from 40 to up to 100 miles a week. I’ll start practising with some weights too, to get used to being self-sufficient and carrying my own supplies. I’m lucky to have the Cairngorms mountain range on my doorstep – with plenty of snow and freezing cold temperatures in the winter, these will give me the perfect conditions to train and start preparing myself.

I am so grateful to the Napier University in Edinburgh, who have given me access to their climatic chamber. With a treadmill set up inside, this will simulate the conditions I will face during the Ice Ultra and will allow me to acclimatise to the opposite temperatures I had to cope with during the MdS. More importantly, I will be able to test out all of my equipment that I use to manage my diabetes, and to have all possible eventualities covered.

I couldn’t do any of this without the incredible support that I am receiving from so many.

This includes my physio, David Brandie, and my dietitian, Irene Riach, both from the Scottish Institute of Sport. My diabetes specialist nurse at NHS Highland, Lorna Grant, who I am so grateful to, has joked that she will knit me a onesie to keep me warm at night. Lastly, I cannot thank enough my wife Lynn and my three lovely children – Alasdair, nine, Isla, eight, and our youngest, Findlay, who was born the week I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes five years ago.

Without a doubt, there are big challenges ahead!

This article was first published by JDRF at the following web address http://www.jdrf.org.uk/news/jdrf-type-1-diabetes-blog/arctic-run-with-type-1-diabetes-

JDRF invites you to join Roddy Riddle in conversation with Moray Firth Radio presenter and newspaper columnist Nicky Marr at Eden Court Theatre, Inverness

Date: Thursday 16 May 2013
Location: Empire Theatre, Eden Court, Bishops Road, Inverness, IV3 5SA

Five years ago, Inverness iron man Roddy Riddle (pictured), a former international cyclist, was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.

This year, Roddy decided to challenge the perceived limitations of living with type 1 diabetes and in April 2013 was the first person with the condition to tackle the toughest footrace on earth, ‘The Marathon Des Sables’, a gruelling six day, 156 mile race across one of the harshest regions in the world – the Sahara Desert. The race is the equivalent of running six marathons in temperatures of up to 50°c.

Expect tales of scorpions and bivouacs, sand storms and insulin pumps.

This article first appeared at the following web address http://www.jdrf.org.uk/get-involved/join-in-an-event/community-events/community-events/roddy-riddles-marathon-des-sables-talk 

 

Father-of-three Roddy Riddle, from Inverness, is to become the first ever person with type 1 diabetes to take part in the gruelling six-day, 156 mile Marathon Des Sables challenge in the Sahara.

Roddy, a former international road cyclist, was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes five years ago and wanted to compete in the toughest race in the world to show that type 1 doesn’t have to be something which holds you back. Roddy hopes to show others with the condition, who can lose confidence when it comes to exercise, that they can live normal active lives. At the same time he wants to raise awareness of type 1 diabetes and raise vital funds for JDRF and Diabetes UK.

Roddy said: “The commitment and dedication that comes from the people at JDRF is unbelievable. What makes the connection even closer is many of the people at JDRF live with type 1 themselves.”

The Inverness iron man will begin the Marathon Des Sables challenge on 7 April and will finish on 13 April. The race takes place across one of the harshest regions on earth – the Sahara desert, which reaches temperatures of up to 50°C. The race is the equivalent of running six marathons in six days. It will be essential for Roddy to ensure his blood glucose levels don’t slip dangerously low or too high. To assist him with this he will run with an insulin pump and a continuous glucose monitor (CGM).

Roddy kick-started his fundraising for JDRF and Diabetes UK with an auction dinner and dance on Saturday 2 February. It raised an amazing £17,765 which was split between both charities. Two of the top prizes on the evening were Marathon Des Sables replica tops signed by Sir Chris Hoy, Sir Bradley Wiggins and Sir Steve Redgrave – three British Olympians!

On the night a supportive video was played featuring Caroline Hellicar, JDRF’s Director of Fundraising – scroll down to watch the video.

On his return, Roddy will be at the Eden Court Theatre, Inverness, sharing his experiences. Joining Roddy in conversation will be Moray Firth Radio presenter and newspaper columnist Nicky Marr. Expect tales of scorpions and bivouacs, sand storms and insulin pumps. Tickets are £15 with all proceeds going to JDRF and Diabetes UK

This article was first published by JDRF at the following web address http://www.jdrf.org.uk/news/latest-news/type-1-hero-tackles-worlds-toughest-race1