The value of aiming high: $3,775 big ones

I would categorize myself as someone who usually sets goals that are well within reach. I have a realistic and risk averse approach to making decisions. So when it came time to set my fundraising goal for the JDRF walk, I set it for 2X the amount the average person raises. I knew it was a bit conservative, but I didn't want to impose upon my friends and family or be sorely disappointed with the result. In hindsight, this is a ridiculous approach and I should be everything short of ruthless when it comes to contributing to finding a cure. Shortly after Justin joins the superthirsties team, he makes fun of my meager goal relative to his goal of 20x the average amount. To step it up a notch, I raised my goal to 10x; however in the past few weeks, I've continued to endure his good natured teasing of my minuscule expectations. Thanks to the help of our friends, family and my teammate's infectious ambition, we were able to make a great contribution.

I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before the walk and it was mildy stressful to figure out how to take public transportation to Crissy Field. The weather was cool, but all in all it was a good day for a walk. Numbers weren't as great as the pride parade in San Francisco, but there were plenty of people out on the fields. I know it's called juvenile diabetes, but I wasn't quite prepared for the number of children (and dogs!) present. From a near distance I saw this big thing of long white fluff and was instantly drawn to its recognizable face. I knew that it was a goldendoodle because I've been scouring goldendoodle websites for the past two months. In case you didn't know, I love golden mixes. Aspen and Sherlock pictured here are golden labs. We liked to play this game called "peanut butter dogs" that involved sticking peanut butter on the roof of their mouths with a piece of milk bone embedded in the center. You knew the peanut butter was all gone once they started crunching. Needless to say, they gained quite a bit of weight over the summer with me. I promise to be less indulgent in the future.

My biggest impediment to getting a doodle was finding a reputable breeder, but thanks to the JDRF walk to cure diabetes, I am one step closer to realizing my dream of becoming a goldendoodle parent. The breeders are in Modesto, which is about 1.5 hours away from San Francisco. I am going to get on their list for mini goldendoodles. The dam is a small akc golden retriver. The sire is a miniature poodle. Don't ask me how that works. Who needs to know the mechanics when the outcome is this adorable?

Back from the canine digression. It felt good to be out there, surrounded by people whose lives have been touched by diabetes. I felt less alone, yet I had no idea who around me had diabetes. I remember looking into the crowd, expecting to see the type 1s, perhaps flourescently tagged or wearing pumps on their forehead. As we were waiting by the start line, there was a family standing next to us. A mom and a dad plus three young kids. The three boys were wearing animal face masks and running around. The youngest boy was probably around two or three years old and wearing a piggy mask. He extended his arms out to his brothers, shrieking like a pig being chased in a pen. After a few more high pitched squeals, his mother caught him in her arms, with a lancing device in hand. Justin and I recognized it instantly because I had the same one. He didn't struggle one bit. He stood perfectly still while his mom squeezed out a drop of blood. Five seconds later "Sorry honey, we have to do it again. Mommy didn't get enough." (I hate when that happens by the way. I'm really glad I switched meters to the freestyle flash which allows you to add more blood to the test strip within 60 seconds or so). Another prick and then off he goes shrieking like a piglet again. For that half minute of testing his blood sugar, I stood in awe of the little boy and his mom. It's a damn tricky thing to deal with sometimes and she doesn't have the benefit of him using words or really knowing how he feels.