By: Brooke Kaplan, Director, People Partner – HR Compliance & Human Capital Initiatives
In April 2007, at 19 years old, I was a sophomore at the University of Maryland. I had always been relatively healthy, exercised recreationally, and worked part-time at the campus gym. I’d just returned from spring break at Disney World with my boyfriend (now husband), Zak, and we were gearing up for the Jewish holiday of Passover. But I was tired all the time, constantly needing to use the bathroom, and dealing with recurring UTIs. Zak and I joked that I’d seen more Disney bathrooms than rides. Something was off.
Assuming it was just college stress or mono, I visited the campus health center, but they ruled out mono and sent me on my way. The next day, while in class, I was hit with debilitating pain, barely making it back to my apartment. Luckily, Zak’s mom, a nurse, guided us over the phone, suspecting kidney stones. I rushed back to the health center, where I received shocking news: I had a kidney infection, another UTI, a blood glucose level of 388 (normal is 80-120), and was told to go to the hospital immediately.
That was the day my life changed. I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, an autoimmune disease where the pancreas stops producing insulin, unlike Type 2 diabetes, where the body doesn’t produce enough or use it properly. There’s no cure and managing Type 1 requires multiple daily insulin injections (MDI) or an insulin pump. Everything affects blood glucose—weather, stress, exercise, menstruation, and of course, food. High blood glucose, or hyperglycemia, can make you feel, among other things, sluggish and irritable, while long term neglect can lead to diabetic ketoacidosis, coma, heart disease, kidney, nerve, or eye damage, and pregnancy complications. Low blood glucose, or hypoglycemia, can cause, among other things, shaking, sweating, dizziness, and fainting. The disease doesn’t wait for convenience—it can disrupt sleep, work, and even life events.
Zak drove me to the hospital, and my parents rushed in from three hours away. I couldn’t believe it—diabetes? Me? After a night in the hospital learning how to give myself insulin and monitor my blood sugar, I returned to school. I canceled a planned summer study abroad to focus on my health but managed to study in Seville, Spain, that fall. Despite another kidney infection in the first year, I graduated early in December 2008. Dreams of travelling the world were put on hold because I needed health insurance, something I could only afford by finding a job (Obamacare didn’t exist yet).
In 2011, I participated in a Type 1 diabetes clinical trial and have continued exploring study opportunities ever since. Still, I refused to let diabetes define me. I always kept up with my doctor’s appointments and insulin. Then in 2019, my doctor suggested a continuous glucose monitor (CGM) for better control. I was hesitant but eventually agreed—and it changed my life. The CGM doesn’t stop the blood sugar fluctuations but gives real-time insights into what’s happening. Sometimes I still get self-conscious explaining the device on my arm or frustrated dealing with alarms, but it’s keeping me alive. I’ve chosen to still not switch to an insulin pump yet.
In 2016, a friend convinced me to run my first half marathon to raise $2,000 for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF). After that, she encouraged me to do another and then a full marathon. In November 2019, I completed my first full marathon at the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington D.C. Then COVID-19 hit, which was especially frightening with a preexisting condition. When I caught COVID in January 2022, my blood sugar was so out of control for days that I called a hospital to check if a bed was available in case I needed to go—but thankfully, I didn’t.
By then, I’d sworn off racing because of germs and sweat, but after relocating to South Florida in 2021, I found a running community that convinced me otherwise. I completed my second, the Chicago marathon, in 2022, my third in Philly in 2023 where I achieved a qualifying time for the Boston Marathon, and fourth, Atlantic City in October 2024. I will also run the Disney marathon in January 2025. Although I haven’t fundraised for recent races, I hope to do so again for diabetes in the future, especially for major races like the NYC marathon. Running has changed my life and is my way of proving to myself that my body can still achieve incredible things. My diabetes is my “why”.
In February 2024, I joined the Diabetes Sports Project Elite team—a group of people with type 1 diabetes from around the world striving to achieve Boston Marathon qualifying times or earn a spot at the Ironman World Championship. With only 0.01% of the world completing a marathon, the number of people with type 1 diabetes who do so is even smaller, and those type 1s who achieve these goals even smaller than that. We support each other through the ups and downs of diabetes and running, sharing advice and support on how to manage both.
Diabetes Sports Project Elite team
Diabetes is a challenging, lifelong disease. There are days when I feel burned out – research conducted at Stanford university showed that people with diabetes (particularly those using insulin to manage their condition) make 180 more decisions each day about their health than someone without diabetes. And the financial burden of insulin, CGMs, pumps, and other equipment is heavy in the U.S. Even though advancements like CGMs, pumps, and improved insulin exist, there’s still no cure. Sometimes, the mere act of eating can feel overwhelming because of the inevitable blood sugar spikes, and issues, like diabulimia, are real for some.
What keeps me going is my support system. My parents, family, and Zak—who was by my side from day one—are always there for me. Zak, in particular, knows the ins and outs of my diabetes management and never hesitates to help. I try not to let this disease hold me back from any of my passions. My journey with diabetes has shaped who I am, but it will never define me.
Zak and Brooke
