...do not belong in the same sentence.
I smoked for fifteen years, heavily, around fifteen to twenty a day. I quit a year ago, and while I felt proud of my achievement, I also felt depressed, and fat. I lost my ability to control what I ate and gained almost nine kilos. I had low energy, ate compulsively and was out of my mind with panic over the weight I'd gained. Finally after over four months an impulsive moment and a glass of wine ended it all. It took over six months to get the weight off....and it was during those months that I started to run.
I've now been running for six months, and I knew I'd need to stop smoking again, when being the question. When I could run a five? A ten? I'd actually smoke a cigarette at 4:50am BEFORE heading out for a run.
This morning after puffing and choking my way through a slow five k, I knew it was time to choose. Smoking or running. Slavery or freedom. The challenge of the new, or the same old same old.
So I sat down and smoked that last cigarette, and I choked on it. My lungs are too healthy after a run to cope with self-induced smoke inhalation. I choked on it and wondered why I think I need this, why I think I enjoy it?
I will not gain weight. In fact I will lose weight, because I will run further and faster than ever before. I will feed my body nourishing food to help it recover from years of being poisoned.
One packet of tobacco, which lasted me between four to six days, costs over $35.00. So, every packet could be a pair of Injinji preformance socks. Two week's worth is a new pair of running tights, entry to a series, or a new dress to fit my running-honed booty. A month's worth of tobacco is a new pair of training shoes.
I will be in control of my body. I will turn it into a machine that delights and amazes me. I will not be a slave to tobacco. Starting now.