How I Manage Type 1 Diabetes with a 5.5 A1C—No Magic, It's My Method
A few weeks ago, I opened my lab results and saw something that made me do a double-take.
A1C: 5.5%
I stared at the screen. The lab report said “non-diabetic range.” My pancreas, however, would like a word.
Because I’ve had type 1 diabetes for over 40 years. I’ve lived through the era of urine strips, finger-prick roulette, and insulin pens that felt like medieval torture devices. I’ve carb-counted in three languages. I’ve bolused in airport bathrooms. I’ve had midnight lows that felt like existential crises.
So no, I didn’t reverse diabetes. I didn’t cure it. I didn’t manifest my beta cells back into existence. But I did something else: I built a method. A rhythm. A lifestyle. A system that works for me.
And this post is my way of sharing it—not as a prescription, but as an invitation.
The Diagnosis That Never Left (But Doesn’t Define Me)
I was diagnosed more than 40 years ago in the days when diabetes management meant “try not to pass out.” There were no CGMs, no pumps, no carb calculators. Just vague advice, a bottle of Regular insulin, and a prayer.
Over the years, I’ve watched diabetes tech evolve faster than my phone’s operating system. I’ve also watched my mindset evolve—from survival mode to something more like mastery. Not perfection. Not control. But partnership.
That 5.5% A1C isn’t a fluke. It’s the result of a method I’ve refined over the course of decades. And it rests on four pillars:
Pillar 1: Diabetes Technology (AKA My Tiny Cyborg Army)
Let’s start with the gadgets. I wear a CGM that gives me real-time glucose data. I use an insulin pump that delivers precise doses based on my needs. And I treat these tools like teammates—not tyrants.
My CGM doesn’t just beep—it nudges. It says, “Hey, that croissant was ambitious.” It says, “Nice job on that walk.” It’s like having a glucose whisperer strapped to my arm.
My pump? It’s got more personality than some people I’ve dated. It has moods. It has quirks. But it also has temp basals, extended boluses, and sleep modes that let me fine-tune my insulin like a DJ mixing tracks.
I don’t chase numbers anymore. I orchestrate them.
Pillar 2: LISS Workouts (Low-Intensity, High Impact)
I used to think exercise had to be intense. HIIT, CrossFit, sprinting until your lungs file a complaint. But then I discovered LISS—Low-Intensity Steady State cardio—and it changed everything.
Now, I walk. I hike. I stroll with purpose. I move like a philosopher pondering the mysteries of glucose.
LISS doesn’t spike my cortisol. It doesn’t tank my blood sugar. It gently nudges my metabolism, improves insulin sensitivity, and gives me space to breathe—literally and figuratively.
It’s not lazy. It’s strategic serenity.
Pillar 3: Mindfulness (And the Magic of Autosuggestion)
Here’s where things get a little woo—but in the best way.
I practice autosuggestion, and I pair it with relaxing mindfulness like a fine wine with a sunset. Not the kind of autosuggestion where you chant “I am a unicorn” and hope for wings. I mean the kind where you train your brain to respond to diabetes with calm, clarity, and confidence.
When my CGM buzzes at 3 a.m., I don’t panic. I breathe. I say, “I’ve got this.” I sip juice like a monk sips tea. I’ve rewired my internal dialogue from “Oh no!” to “Okay, let’s handle this.”
But it’s not just words—it’s presence. I use breathwork, body awareness, and gentle rituals to stay grounded. Sometimes it’s a slow walk. Sometimes it’s a quiet moment before a meal. Sometimes it’s just noticing how I feel without judgment.
Mindfulness isn’t just meditation. It’s how I eat. How I move. How I talk to myself when things go sideways. It’s the difference between reacting and responding. And in diabetes, that difference is everything.
Pillar 4: Mediterranean Meals (With a Twist)
I love food. I love flavor. I love paella. And I refuse to live on boiled chicken and sadness.
Instead, I’ve embraced a low-to-medium carb Mediterranean approach. Think: olive oil, fish, legumes, leafy greens, and the occasional glass of red wine that pairs beautifully with a well-timed bolus.
I don’t count every carb. I curate them. I pair carbs with protein. I time my meals around activity. I listen to my body, not just my app.
I’ve learned that carbs aren’t evil. They’re just like toddlers—great in small doses, but they need supervision.
The Real Win
That 5.5% A1C? It’s not a trophy. It’s a byproduct of a life I’ve designed with intention, experimentation, and a healthy dose of humor.
I still have diabetes. But I also have freedom. I have energy. I have peace of mind. And that’s what this journey is really about.
If you’re reading this and feeling overwhelmed, let me say this: You don’t have to do it all at once. Start with one pillar. One walk. One mindful breath. One meal made with love.
Because diabetes may be lifelong—but so is your power to thrive.
