The backstory: I smoked for 30 years, about a pack a day. Quit (more on this later) in 1998, doing OK since then.
The story: Played Sunrise last weekend and almost died. Yeah, it's 7400 feet ASL and the air is thin, but hey - in high school I could swim a mile and then turn right around and swim another mile. Yet there I was, doubled over, feeling like my bag (10 discs) weighed a ton, moving down the fairway by sheer willpower alone. It took me TWO HOURS to play the first nine holes, and most of that time was taken up huffing and puffing and wheezing and wishing to hell that the course was somehow DOWN the mountain and still out of the So Cal smog.
The moral: Smoking equals death. Notice the period at the end of that sentence.
If you're a smoker, I'm not going to tell you to quit - you can do whatever you want with your life - but I do want to point out that there are consequences to your actions that you may want to consider before flicking your Bic.
How did I do it? Cold turkey. I decided (after a visit to the doctor, who showed me an X-ray and told me I had two choices - quit or die) to just quit, and resolved that every time my body yelled and screamed about wanting a ciggy, I would tell it "TOUGH SH!T - YOU AIN'T GETTING ANY".
It took two weeks of absolutely ruthless discipline, but it worked. I'm still alive, and I got the bonus of learning a new sport, too. Still feeling the effects of the decisions I'd made earlier in life, but hey, now I know, and I'm passing it forward.
Your choice.
The story: Played Sunrise last weekend and almost died. Yeah, it's 7400 feet ASL and the air is thin, but hey - in high school I could swim a mile and then turn right around and swim another mile. Yet there I was, doubled over, feeling like my bag (10 discs) weighed a ton, moving down the fairway by sheer willpower alone. It took me TWO HOURS to play the first nine holes, and most of that time was taken up huffing and puffing and wheezing and wishing to hell that the course was somehow DOWN the mountain and still out of the So Cal smog.
The moral: Smoking equals death. Notice the period at the end of that sentence.
If you're a smoker, I'm not going to tell you to quit - you can do whatever you want with your life - but I do want to point out that there are consequences to your actions that you may want to consider before flicking your Bic.
How did I do it? Cold turkey. I decided (after a visit to the doctor, who showed me an X-ray and told me I had two choices - quit or die) to just quit, and resolved that every time my body yelled and screamed about wanting a ciggy, I would tell it "TOUGH SH!T - YOU AIN'T GETTING ANY".
It took two weeks of absolutely ruthless discipline, but it worked. I'm still alive, and I got the bonus of learning a new sport, too. Still feeling the effects of the decisions I'd made earlier in life, but hey, now I know, and I'm passing it forward.
Your choice.