"I'm No Quitter"

Within the mess of photos, grocery lists and other souvenirs of daily life on my refrigerator clings a small square magnet. Pictured on it is a woman, perfectly coiffed, delicately holding a lit cigarette between her immaculately manicured red fingernails. The caption reads, "I'm no quitter."

This magnet has adorned refrigerators in Madison, Minneapolis and Manhattan after having been bestowed on me by my charming baby brother my senior year in college. There was a time when I would reference the magnet in arguments with my mother about my need to stop smoking. After all, if the beautiful, well-groomed woman on the magnet with the sassy 1940's hat could continue to proudly smoke, so could I.

My first post included all of the reasons it was irrational for me to train for a marathon, with my smoking listed as one of my primary obstacles. For the sake of full disclosure I feel I must clarify, I quit smoking two weeks before writing that blog post. To be perfectly frank, I included it in the initial blog because all evidence would have suggested that I would be unsuccessful in my efforts to quit.

I am proud to report that I have not had a cigarette since January 23, 2011. Today is my 100th day without smoking and the longest I've gone without a cigarette since I began smoking at age 15.

It's my understanding that it's customary for those who have quit smoking to impart their newfound expertise on the subject in a condescending fashion on all the filthy smokers we encounter. I don't have time for that so I'm just going to write what worked for me on here and then continue in my pattern of loudly, harshly and hypocritically voicing my disgust for smokers I pass in the street.

1) I wrote down all the rational reasons I had for quitting. (Eg. Cost of cigarettes, Time spent smoking, Health risks, Family reasoning, etc.) I quantified the most rational of reasons. (Smoking in NYC for 100 days costs approximately $600, Smoking half a pack per day means 12 hours per week are spent smoking, etc.) I then wrote all of the reasons I had to quit out by hand and posted them on the back of the door to my apartment. For me it was very important to have more than just the generic "Smoking Will Kill You" reasoning. Apparently the $1,200 I spend annually on this habit is more of a rational deterrent than the prospect of death.

It was also important to me that this be written in my own handwriting. It had to be a personal note. To: Me, From: Me. It couldn't be someone else telling me why I had to quit.

2) I created a rewards system for myself with goal dates to reach to receive the rewards. At first these were things like massages and haircuts, but then I realized that those things didn't really matter to me. So, I shifted my rewards to shoes. I was going to buy myself a pair of red heels, a pair of snakeskin heels and a pair of Kelly Green Converse All Stars.

Fast forward to May and I'm almost out of student loans, so those rewards will have to wait until I have gainful employment. I was complaining about the rigidity of my financial situation to my friend Dana and mentioned how it was unfortunate I wouldn't be able to reward myself adequately for my progress and she commented (in the very nonchalant way that only Dana can), "Isn't the fact that you're quitting smoking your reward to yourself?" Leave it to Dana to cut through all the bullshit and get right to the heart of the matter. Since I had to stop with the reward system for the time being, the boyfriend has picked it up and has decided to reward me with a series of IOU's for awesome dates in and around New York City. Each date comes in the mail described on the back of a postcard specific to the location where the date will take place. He's an excellent boyfriend.

3) I kept a pack of cigarettes with me at all times. In fact, it's still in my bedside table. It has notes taped to the sides of the box and photos taped to the front and back of the box. On the back, my boyfriend Sid, who will apparently be "really pissed" if he eventually finds himself holding my hand while I'm hooked to a respirator (those are his words, not mine). That conversation was the first time I really realized that my smoking wasn't just about me, it's about everyone in my life who cares about me having to eventually watch me suffering all the consequences of years of self-destructive behavior. On the front, my mom. I have no idea what the bond between mother and child feels like, and I hear I won't until I have my own children, but I hear it's unpleasant to watch them habitually engage in behaviors with such long-term adverse effects. I then sealed the pack of cigarettes (because it was half smoked) with packaging tape so that getting one out wouldn't be as easy as just opening the box and would give me some time to think about whether or not I really wanted one before tearing into the pack.

I kept the half full pack with me at all times because it was important to me that I be controlling the addiction, not allowing the addiction to control me. I chose the date that I was quitting, it was not determined by when my last pack ran out. I wasn't not smoking because I didn't have cigarettes, I was not smoking because I was choosing not to.

4) I had a plan. A strategic plan, of course, for how to deal with the onset of any cravings. I also wrote this out in my own handwriting, laminated it (because who doesn't love to laminate?), and kept it in the little pouch in my bag that housed my doctored pack of cigarettes. Also in this pouch, a pack of delicious fruity gum. While quitting I really branched out in the gum chewing department and found a whole new set of flavors that are not available in the treasure chest in my father's dental office. My current favorite is Strawberry Shortcake, mostly because I feel like Violet Beauregarde in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when I have dessert flavored chewing gum.

So, that's what has worked for me. 100 days in I consider myself to be completely quit. I've only had one day where I was even tempted to smoke and have only dreamt about smoking once. The doctored pack will remain in my bedside table until January 23, 2012, when it will have been one year.

Today I will celebrate this milestone by visiting the Midtown Buffet (the only Chinese buffet I've ever seen with dumplings included in the spread) and by tasting my first ever slice of blueberry pie!

But first, a seven mile run.

"It's easy to quit smoking. I've done it hundreds of times." -Mark Twain