First, I started playing basketball with a group of guys before work and on the weekends. I felt like I had cords wrapped around my chest preventing me from inhaling as much as I should be able to, which affected my game. So I tried smoking, but eventually within about a week, I was back to it. My solution was to quit basketball.
Next, I had a girlfriend who didn’t smoke and I could see how she hated my nasty habit. I always felt a little twinge of guilt knowing that she hated to get into my stale smoke aroma car. So I tried quitting again. This time it lasted until we went to the bar next, which was about a day. I just couldn’t drink a beer without wanting a cigarette.
Finally, a friend of mine’s mother died from lung cancer and I saw how it had affected him. In fact, it affected me pretty bad too. She was only in her fifties and it didn’t seem like she should have passed on yet. This time I decided that I would quit and so would my friend whose mother had just passed away.
It was a lot of struggle for a few weeks, but after about the second or third week it got easier and since then neither of us has ever looked back. Now when I go into a smoky room or bar, I can’t stand the smell and wonder how I ever could have liked this filthy habit.
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