I woke up on 1/1/11 and my arms felt like I had worked out for 17 straight hours.
Matt, Leslie, Kara, Jordan and I were playing Let’s Dance 2 all night. I’m pretty sure, Proud Mary was the one that did me in.
After the house was empty I started on laundry, a prime rib roast and relaxing. I was successful with all three.
I also started the no smoking promise I had made.
I went through every stage. Throwing away all the butts, dismantling my smoking spot and getting rid of my smokes.
By 5pm I had dug through my car looking for one smoke left in a box, digging through the trash to see if there was a butt big enough to light and checking all my pockets for a pack that might have been left in there. I found one and I smoked it with enthusiasm of sex deprived addict. I waited for the guilt to kick in. Nope, it wasn’t there. I felt no guilt what so ever. Why was I quitting in the first place? I love this!
As I climbed the stairs back to my room to brush the taste out of my mouth, my legs started hurting. It had been a few days since I had been the gym or done any kind of walking. Oh yeah, this is why I was quitting. Not because I made a vow with my sister or I wanted to be a good role model. I was doing it because I want to be able to push myself further than I thought I could go. This smoking thing is slowing me down. Damn it. I’m going to have to remember that the next time I am tossing the contents of my trunk on the garage floor because there MIGHT be a half a pack of stale smokes in there.
This morning I woke up and remembered this is another day I won’t be smoking. Instead of smile, I sighed.
The worst part of this is the catch 22. Today I go back to the gym and I push myself again, possibly farther than I could in the past…but I won’t be able to reward myself with a smoke.
Yes, I see the stupidity in all of this. Yes, I know how stupid I looked lighting up a smoke before I even had the car started to head home from the gym.
I’m going to have to just knock myself out when I get home from the gym to forget the joy of those quiet moments in the garage smoking, playing Angry Birds or texting with a friend.