Breathe.

It had just gone 5 o’clock. The sun had almost disappeared when I last glanced out the window. The ever so trusty Weatherzone app on my iPhone told me that the temperature outside was 15.2 degrees and falling. I had just eaten a handful of Red Rock Deli Honey Soy Chicken chips and a small lamington, washed down with a milky coffee.

My body wanted nothing more than to ignite the heater and curl up in front of the television.

But my head was telling me that I needed this.

I laced up my faded grey Nike shoes with the blue tick. My blood sugar was sitting at 5.8, although I was certain that I would need this walk if I had any chance of blunting the spike from my afternoon tea. I tapped my pocket, reassured by the familiar bulk that was my iPhone. I grabbed the headphones from my desk, despite being certain my mind would be too far in overdrive to listen to anything. I grabbed the grey pencil case on the dresser, containing my meter and glucose tabs, and headed out the door.

I could feel the cold, relatively still air brushing against my face as I began to walk down the street.

My headphones remained clutched in my right hand, as I tried ever so hard to focus on my breathing.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

I can’t say with any certainty that this walk took my mind away from the things that have been on my mind lately.

It’s usually during times like these that I struggle to find a place for my diabetes.

Yet I was amazed at how smoothly my diabetes management tasks had slid into the background, almost like second nature.

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