Sunday, March 06, 2005

Thirteen point one miles...

...is how I chose to commemorate the (almost, but not quite) end of 2 nicotine-free years in the life of Witho.

Yep, March 7th 2003 was the day of my last ciggie. Smoked on platform 4 of Southampton Central station as I awaited my train to Bristol, where I was meeting my sister who would convey me to our holiday cottage in the Forest of Dean. I was taking the train because my "then" car (dear old André, the trusty Ford Fiesta) had just been written off... I remember picking that car up from the dealer in Grays (Essex). My first drive home in my first ever car was around the North Circular. Baptism of fire...

There were a few cigarettes left in the packet, which I ditched in the bin of the ladies' toilets (since there were no bins on the platform).

I remember the days when they used to have bins on Tube station platforms... I'm a bit too young to have actually smoked on a Tube train, though...

I could have finished them off, but my decision was that the smoking would end, there and then. No patches, no hypnotics. Just me and a packet of Wrigley's Extra.

A week later, I started running.

Two years on.

I can run a half marathon. Not particularly quickly. Without much style or elegance. But I can do it without stopping.

Yep, I'm proud of that.

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