The new life....again....

Last year, I lost 40 pounds. I changed a lot about the way I ate. I changed how I thought about food. And I was under an immense amount of stress. That helped a lot.

Once people started to blatantly ask if I was sick, I stopped doing such an intense regulation of my intake and just kept my weight constant. That was good.

A year later, I began working out. Something that I had wanted to do for a very long time, I finally committed, with the help of my husband, to a daily (or more accurately: nightly) workout  routine. He and I worked out every night for at least an hour, no matter how late it was, how rough of a day we had, or how tired we were. I saw results within four days. It was amazing and I was extremely happy. When I caught a cold, I had to slow down, but we're still working out more than half the week, for over an hour each time. I feel good about that, and its something we do together that is good for us, too.

Recently, I decided to take a journey to health. I felt run-down. My body was not happy, and I knew it. I looked into the eyes of my two boys, ages 7 and 1 1/2, and I thought, I need to get healthy so I can be here for them for a long time. I need to teach them how to be healthy; how to be active; how to truly enjoy living.

I've been a smoker for about 17 years, with the exception of the times when I was pregnant. I've tried to quit, and always came back to it. It was a staple of my life, and all of my social interactions seemed to revolve around smoking. The only reason my husband and I started talking was because we were both smokers. Funny thing, he quit smoking in February. He never gave me any shit about it when I would light up after he had quit. He knew I had to come to it on my own.

Last week, I decided that this week was my week. I was planning on quitting smoking, and committing to a healthy way of life, including eating more healthy and making sure to always have time outside, and be active, especially with my boys. Now, I'm not a hugely religious person. I go to church with my husband and our kids. I don't consider myself any particular religion. I believe in God. Whatever you want to call the greater being, I call it God. A topic for another blog, but in any case, on Sunday, I prayed very briefly for help with my quest for health, especially my battle to quit smoking.

It has taken me until now (the following Saturday night) to realize just how profoundly my prayer was answered.

On Monday, I woke up with a slight sore throat. I had to work at 6 am, so I powered through and went to work. About ten hours later, I had battled through chills, headaches, lots of customers, and finally arrived home. My husband took the kids out for 4th of July celebrations, and I went to bed. I slept on and off for three days. My throat hurt in a way I cannot even describe. On Wednesday night, I had my husband check my throat and he said I should call the doctor because it looked like strep throat. Thursday, barely able to speak, or even lift my head, I called. No doctor could see me, so I went to urgent care. One test said it wasn't strep, but the doctor said that it looked like it was. She told me to go home, gargle, take Advil and sleep. So I did. Awaiting test results, I slept and drank a ton of water, and realized that I hadn't smoked a cigarette since Monday.

Friday, I woke up, my throat still hurt like hell, but I spent the day outside, in the sun, watching my boys run in the sprinklers, and as the day passed, I felt a bit better. Saturday, I woke up, and my throat barely hurt. I was well-rested. I was happy to spend some time with my boys and my mom before i finally got to go back to work. I had missed five shifts, which had cost me at least $600.

And I also realized that I hadn't smoked a cigarette in five days. For me, that was amazing. To be happy, relaxed, enjoying my day, and having not had a smoke in five days? Unheard of. Until now, I would have said "Impossible!" But now, not so much.
And then, I remembered how I had prayed on Sunday.

Wow.

Yes, I suffered last week. I was in pain. I was tired, feverish, miserable. But I quit smoking. And I didn't make everyone that I love miserable in the process.

So, at this point, my goal is to keep the stress and negativity from the forefront. I have begun a process to leave a terrible habit of mine in the dust. I figure that if every cigarette takes seven minutes from your life, then every time i don't have the cigarette  I would have had, it's gonna add seven lucky minutes to my life. Seven extra minutes to laugh, to talk with my boys, to hug them, to love them, to help make their lives better, and to help make my life, and my husband's life better.

And hey, who couldn't use a little extra time to run around, flailing your arms, singing, dancing, eating, drinking, and spreading some contagious happiness?

Here's to my new life....again.