My Big Weekend.
Three years ago tonight I was standing in the back yard savoring my final cigarette, just as I had a couple of hundred times before. The idea of never enjoying a smoke again was frightening and nearly impossible to contemplate or imagine. My wife was at work, which was a relief because I would have had to walk down the block to have a cigarette if she was home, and my kids were inside the house doing their homework. They knew where I was, too. My 'bucket o' butts' was overflowing, as usual, but the plan was to soak it down and toss it in order to avoid any temptation to dig through it for some relief.
Like the hundreds of times before I questioned my resolve, gave myself a pep talk and dreaded a life without my smokes. Unlike the hundreds of times before I had been reading and reading and reading at the Freedom From Tobacco site and knew some things about addiction and the tricks my mind was going to play on me. I actually knew about these mind games before, but seeing them in print and knowing other people had faced them made them seem a little less powerful. I wasn't sure whether I'd be in the backyard again in a few weeks savoring my final cigarette and giving myself another pep talk.
Three years later when I stand in the same spot in the back yard I'm either grilling burgers or watering the plants that are growing where the bucket o' butts used to stand. I can breathe really, really deeply. My wife doesn't cringe when I try to kiss her. My kids don't automatically look out the back door when searching for me, because I'm right where they can see me all the time. I eat better, sleep better, feel better, look better, smell better. I haven't had a cold in three years. I have made dozens of new on-line friends who know exactly what I went through and either came with me or encouraged me through it all .
And I ran a marathon - or most of one. And then a half-marathon. I am no longer a smoker - I am a runner. I can run three miles without stopping, take a sip of water and run three more. It was only three years ago that running thirty yards would have left me sucking wind.
And now I'm going to run another marathon - or half marathon, I haven't decided yet.
Thank you, Freedom, for three great years and all your support. I might have done it without you, but I doubt it.
Terry
Three years ago tonight I was standing in the back yard savoring my final cigarette, just as I had a couple of hundred times before. The idea of never enjoying a smoke again was frightening and nearly impossible to contemplate or imagine. My wife was at work, which was a relief because I would have had to walk down the block to have a cigarette if she was home, and my kids were inside the house doing their homework. They knew where I was, too. My 'bucket o' butts' was overflowing, as usual, but the plan was to soak it down and toss it in order to avoid any temptation to dig through it for some relief.
Like the hundreds of times before I questioned my resolve, gave myself a pep talk and dreaded a life without my smokes. Unlike the hundreds of times before I had been reading and reading and reading at the Freedom From Tobacco site and knew some things about addiction and the tricks my mind was going to play on me. I actually knew about these mind games before, but seeing them in print and knowing other people had faced them made them seem a little less powerful. I wasn't sure whether I'd be in the backyard again in a few weeks savoring my final cigarette and giving myself another pep talk.
Three years later when I stand in the same spot in the back yard I'm either grilling burgers or watering the plants that are growing where the bucket o' butts used to stand. I can breathe really, really deeply. My wife doesn't cringe when I try to kiss her. My kids don't automatically look out the back door when searching for me, because I'm right where they can see me all the time. I eat better, sleep better, feel better, look better, smell better. I haven't had a cold in three years. I have made dozens of new on-line friends who know exactly what I went through and either came with me or encouraged me through it all .
And I ran a marathon - or most of one. And then a half-marathon. I am no longer a smoker - I am a runner. I can run three miles without stopping, take a sip of water and run three more. It was only three years ago that running thirty yards would have left me sucking wind.
And now I'm going to run another marathon - or half marathon, I haven't decided yet.
Thank you, Freedom, for three great years and all your support. I might have done it without you, but I doubt it.
Terry

