Amanda Oberski has a really cute pug named Apollo. He’s the kind of calm dog that reflects well on his owner, cuddling up to everyone who needs it. Amanda holds Apollo in her arms a lot, where he calmly sits observing the world from the comfort of her bosom. She lets him off the leash but he doesn’t stray far. He walks around, sniffing trees, bigger dogs, and dark spots on the sidewalk. He’s easy going and curious, just like his owner.
Apollo hasn’t seen Amanda for ten weeks. The 4,200 mile bike ride that Amanda just completed isn’t exactly the sort of thing you can take a pug on. But Apollo was waiting for her at the finish line.
When Amanda saw Beyond Type 1’s open call for cyclists with Type 1 diabetes to bike across the country, her immediate reaction was anger. “I really thought there was no way someone with Type 1, let alone a team of people, could bike across the country.” She thought it was crazy and dangerous.
Then she had a change of heart. “I sat on those thoughts for a few days and let them swirl around inside of me,” she says. “If my initial reactions were fear and anger, and I think I’m a very adventurous and bold person, that was a big flag for me.. And I realized some were my own limiting thoughts and that if this was going to happen, if a team was going to do it, I needed to be part of that team.”
There are a fair few mountains in between New York and San Francisco, the path that the Bike Beyond team took on their mission to raise awareness for Type 1 diabetes. With no cycling experience, Amanda was nervous about those mountains; she imagined accidentally losing control of her bike and plummeting off the side of one. So she started training, using San Francisco’s hills as proxy. (In the end, “biking up mountains is not that fun,” she says. “But biking down them is great–and yes, a little scary.”)
Amanda grew up far from any mountains in Sterling Heights, a suburb of Detroit. She was diagnosed with Type 1 when she was 15. Before she was diagnosed, she’d been sick for months, but being an active teenager–she danced three to four hours a day as a member of her high school dance team–had mostly hidden her telltale symptoms.
What finally gave it away was the peeing. Amanda got up one too many times in the middle of the night, and her mother got worried. They went to the doctor, but both Oberskis thought it was just a bladder infection. “I was there for like thirty seconds. I peed in a cup, they looked at it, and sent me to the hospital,” she remembers. Her blood sugar levels were dangerously high.
The diagnosis was a relief. “I’ve always been very realistic and very positive. I was just happy that we knew what it was, and that there were next steps to take care of it.” She was sick of the extreme sleepiness, hunger, and thirst that untreated Type 1 diabetes can cause… not to mention the constant calling of nature.
Amanda embraced her diagnosis. Some things were difficult, like going out to eat when she wasn’t sure where the carbs were hiding in any given dish. Also, as a high school girl, she liked cute little bags, which is right out with Type 1, given the number of supplies you need to carry with you. For the most part though, Amanda dodged the Type 1 burnout which is common after diagnosis, once the relentless attention required to manage the diseases starts waring people out.
Her positivity has been an asset in managing her diabetes. “When you have Type 1,” she says, “You have to roll with the punches because you can plan your day a certain way and then it will totally go up in flames and you have to be able to say ‘Well, ok!’ and restrategize. Because it’s literally your life on the line.” She says that being curious about diabetes helps her with her adaptability. “I love to figure stuff out. My diabetes was actually interesting to me.”
These days, Amanda tries to instill her curiosity in others. After finishing a Teach for America program in Washington DC, she stayed with the organization working with schools in the district on bettering their science curricula. Four years ago, Amanda and Apollo moved to San Francisco together where Amanda began working to help build a K-12 Engineering and Design school called Bright Works.
“A lot of the way that K-12 is run suppresses curiosity,” she says. “We just give kids facts instead of them exploring on their own volition. But learning is not black and white. I think curiosity is the strongest and best ability that we have as humans and that is what we should be developing and propelling forward.”
Curiosity about the limits of her diabetes is what propelled her across the country on a 4,200 bike ride. So maybe Amanda’s got a point. Apollo certainly thinks so.