Hello there, as my name might indicate, I am a bit of a gym rat. In fact, that is what got me started. I went to college and began lifting with a group that swore dipping improves athletic ability. I am well aware now that that fact just simply is not true, but dipping got me in with the guys. Hell, it felt good too. This was about six years ago.
Fast forward to today, my first 24 hours nicotine free are nearly under my belt. I have been exercising the cravings away, but have still gotten a bit pissy with friends. They know what's going on, and said it went better than expected. Regardless, I am really just pissed off at me. Putting myself in this shitty situation by making choices I knew better than to make. No power over the past, though.
I decided to quit because quitting is better than dying. I had a routine oral surgery (wisdom tooth removal) that took much longer than average to fully heal, and involved getting a pretty severe infection. For awhile, I chalked it up to bad luck. Anybody can have problems after surgery. Isn't it interesting how we can lie to ourselves so easily when addicted?
Yesterday was the last straw with the nicotine bitch. I was talking with my trainer about being healthy again, ready to get back to the grind. I shared some of the specifics with him that I just shared with you. His response: "I had a friend in his college days who swore dipping helped him too. I started believing him for awhile, because his progress was so much better than everyone else. In the long run though, he didn't get too far. When he died of throat cancer at 25, he couldn't have been much more than 100lbs."
I am 24. I am not immortal. I am quitting.
