Back to basics....

My many remakings are remarkable in their own way. Each, to varying degrees, includes body, mind, and spirit. Each requires being proactive, rather than reactive.

Running always provides the necessary rubric. Running enables me to: regroup; renew; rework; reorganize; remember; and reenergize.

Running is not static; it requires constant movement. So too do I. Running is my restorative.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Vice voiding

Voiding what has been a vice is critical to this remaking. While I never considered myself to be a cigarette smoker, I did smoke cigarettes.

I joked that it was my vice – I had to have one. I couldn't be all good. It was something I did sometimes. Unlike many, I did not smoke in certain social situations. Most often, I smoked alone – it was “my thing.”

Smoking was not something I did regularly. It was, however, in my arsenal. Regrettably, it became a fix. Though I know that it did not fix anything, it did provide some sick pleasure for me.

Last year, I decided that I needed more time, money, and health. I would get a little bit of each by not smoking cigarettes.

On March 1st, my husband caught me smoking. He freaked out. More significant, however, was when my then five-year-old son said “what’s the problem, she does it all the time.” I never smoked in front of my son, or so I thought. So much can be written about that day (as well as ones before and after), but just getting a bit of it in writing is enough for now. After that day, as I had been doing, I did not smoke much. Deep down, however, I still clung to my vice as a grape clings to a vine.

Finally, on Friday, June 12, 2009, I smoked what I know in my heart must be my last cigarette. I do so terribly miss this vice, but I know it is for the best. I certainly do have a bit more time, money, and health.

In the past, cigarettes certainly were not always part of my life. However, too often they were something I fell back on. Most of my stories do not include cigarettes, but too many do. Significantly, I remember walking alone in the Public Garden at about 6:30 on the morning I was to run the Boston Marathon. I smoked a cigarette before proceeding to the lavish Ritz Carlton breakfast offered to the Judge Baker Children’s Center team, of which I was a member. Afterward, I successfully completed what I call My Marathon in 4:25:19.

It now has been more than 7 months since I smoked what I vow to have been my last cigarette. I certainly have avoided this vice for longer periods of time in the past. While it was avoided, I must admit to myself that it was never voided. Until now.

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