NOT SMOKING.
There. I said it. I could count on all my fingers and toes, and the fingers and toes of several other people, just how many times I've said I was going to quit smoking. I've tried medication, the patch, nicotine gum, hypnotism, electronic cigs . . . and I've quit for a week, a month, once even for over a year. But the nicodemon always draws me back in.
Then I went and signed up for a triathalon. Yes . . . I'm going to have to swim, bike and run my way to a finish line. And I can't do that if I smoke. The most motivated I've ever been to quit was when I quit smoking before my bariatric surgery - if any nicotine was found in my system, the surgery was off. Quitting was not easy, but was also the only option I had. I don't think I can train for this triathalon as a smoker. And I need to do this triathalon.
So . . . for the next 30 days, no smoking. I'm going to wear a nicotine patch, chew nicotine gum as needed and try not to eat everything in sight. Along the way, I hope to explore why I have such an emotional and identity attachment to smoking. And I'll probably be bitchy for a while. That'll be fun . . .
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