As of yesterday, I had gone three months, one-quarter of a year without a cigarette.
I have to say, it’s a good feeling. I’m jogging and hitting the elliptical… I’m still fat but at least I’m not out of breath.
I’m not at the point where I’m in everyone’s face about joining me in quitting. Actually, I’m more in the face of smokers – in the hopes of catching some of that fine, fine second-hand smoke.
Hey, one step at a time, right?