I was a busy Radio 1Xtra DJ, training for a marathon – then I got a shock diagnosis

In retrospect, it was so obvious that I had type 1 diabetes – I was experiencing the majority of symptoms

Running was my way of being free from thoughts, people and painful emotion (Victoria Adamson)

Deciding to run an ultra marathon a few months after a type 1 diabetes diagnosis probably seems unconventional. It has a bit of a "when life gives you lemons, try scaling Everest" sound to it.

I would have thought the same before I started on my journey to discover both. I assumed that the two were polar opposites, ill health vs elite conditioning, Homer Simpson vs Mo Farah, sugar vs salt. But I was wrong, and it was only by taking a deep dive deep into both diabetes and running that I truly learned a lot about myself.

What is type 1 diabetes? Well, it’s what happens when the glucose that we all use for energy is unable to transfer from our blood to our cells, due to a lack of the hormone insulin. Your body attacks the cells in your pancreas that make insulin, therefore not allowing you to produce enough – or any at all.

Insulin is an essential ingredient our body needs to function and remain alive. When you have type 1 diabetes, your body still breaks down the carbohydrates you consume, but there is no insulin being produced to get into your cells. In most cases, this leads to a dangerous rise in blood sugar levels.

Having a nurse explain that you have diabetes is a shock to the system. In retrospect, it was so obvious that I had it – I was experiencing the majority of symptoms. For weeks, I was up and down the stairs during the night needing to urinate. On the worst night, I went downstairs to use the toilet 13 times. This affected not only my sleep but my work too. With undiagnosed type 1, my three hours on BBC Radio 1Xtra was more of me going to the bathroom than talking.

It wasn’t until I sent my close friend Leeza a voice note sounding super rough that I actually phoned the GP. Her response to how bad I sounded got me worried. Having not had any serious health scares in the past, I always harnessed that ignorant "unless I can’t walk, then I’m going to work" mentality. That same stubbornness has helped me dramatically with running.

My GP asked me to drop off a urine sample after I explained my symptoms so they could run some tests. The same day, I got a call back telling me to go to the hospital immediately. Again, continuing to be ignorant of my health, I still went to work and put the hospital off until after my radio show. That day, I managed half the show before almost fainting.

After my diagnosis, I got so many messages from friends, colleagues and even strangers through social media. I got messages from people telling me that they were sorry to hear, but  “congratulations on getting a diagnosis". At the time, these specific messages annoyed me. It seemed as if I was meant to be happy about finding out I have this new illness.

The word that encapsulates that time for me would be emasculating, as part of my manhood felt like it had been taken away. It feels almost bizarre writing that now, but it honestly did. I was in a low headspace for the first few weeks. It all was extremely heavy and any support felt overbearing. However, my mind quickly returned to the mission at hand: getting this ultramarathon completed.

Shortly before the diagnosis, I was making a documentary called “How to run 50 miles”. It was swiftly put on hold. I was devastated, and the only consolation was that the race we were meant to take part in got cancelled due to Covid. Jim Farthing, the producer of the documentary, decided we should make this part one and release it anyway. We just changed the name to "How not to run 50 miles". This turned out to be a great call, and I received more messages of support.

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Running the ultramarathon was an incredible experience. After a gruelling14 hour and 40-minute mix of running, walking and crawling, I’ll never forget welling up whilst kissing the finishing sign.

My running journey started from a relationship breakup which aligned perfectly with the start of lockdown. Running was my way of being free from thoughts, people and painful emotions. Completing the 50 miles was a full circle moment. When I crossed that finish line, all those feelings I was trying to escape from poured out.

I’m not sure I would have finished if it wasn’t for diabetes. I knew how powerful this would be for those who live with the condition, especially younger viewers. It became the reason I accomplished one of my greatest personal achievements. It was only then that I truly let myself accept this new way of life.

Reece Parkinson is a presenter on Radio 1Xtra and host on MOTDx, BBC 2