1st Draft
2nd Draft
Quitting
The invasive sound of rush hour traffic made a mockery of Philadelphia's I-476 sound barrier and polluted the Smedley Park woods. I had just discovered a fairly entertaining pump-track for my free-ride mountain bike in a pine grove on a ridge bordering the Blue-route. I approached the first berm at generous speed and whipped around embracing the g-forces and began pumping the rollers accelerating to higher speed with each one. If you have ever been on a roller coaster going over camel humps the sensation of weightlessness is the same. After eight rollers I shot through a bermed S curve, pumped a right bermed roller and finished off with an aerial whip over the eight foot jump that ended the track. It was then I noticed a chubby thirty something man on a cross-country bike observing me. His name turned out to be Tim and he offered to show me the rest of the park. Due to his weight I thought I was about to enjoy a leisurely ride through the woods. It started out simple enough as we descended down from the pump-track ridge. Tim was heavy on his brakes and it took much concentration not to rear end him. I remember thinking how much better of an athlete I was than Tim. Then the trail flattened out winding its way through a swampy section of park and I started having trouble keeping up. I quickly wrote this off clinging to the notion; I'm a better athlete then Tim . My bike sat on 26 inch wheels and was setup for downhill and dirt jumping. Tim’s bike sat on 29 inch wheels and was built for that kind of riding. Then we came to a relatively long steep climb. However, not the worst I have ever seen. Now maybe it happened because I was pushing myself to keep at Tim’s pace or I was just a tad rusty, but a third of the way up the climb I collapsed. My lungs burned as they labored uselessly to pick up oxygen, my throat painfully parched pleaded for water but I didn't have the air to drink. As Tim’s chubby silhouette disappeared up the hill I resolved right then and there to never smoke a cigarette again.
I was 24 at the time of this decision (still am it has been two months). I had been smoking one pack of Marlboro Reds a day for about a decade. I picked up smoking cigarettes at the age of thirteen. At first I would just have one after school. However, waiting outside of gas stations asking people to buy me smokes soon became a daily occurrence.
In the past year and a half my life changed a great deal. I gave up on my hard partying lifestyle, quitting alcohol and all drugs. Furthermore, I rededicated myself to athletic pursuits I had allowed to slip in recent years. I had given up on alcohol, marijuana, prescription drugs, party drugs and heroin (a story for a different time). Cigarettes seemed to be the last vice I just could not let go. I think it very fortunate I collapsed that day in Smedley Park because it finally gave me the motivation I needed to quit smoking. Judging by my performance just a short time afterwards I wonder how well I’d be able to perform if I never smoked in the first place?
“FUCK!” I screamed, as I frantically grabbed for my phone to silence the alarm. It was 9am on my first full day without cigarettes. I had zero intention of getting out of bed. For a decade I've woken up and sparked up. With that option gone the idea of getting out of bed was a pipe dream. Luckily my only plans for the day weren't until later. I stayed in bed as long as possible and when I did finally move it was pushing 1 o’clock in the afternoon. I immediately started chomping on several pieces of gum to give my mouth something to do. Once I got on my bike thoughts of smoking left my mind but it was the night that worried me. I was meeting some friends in the city to watch the Flyers game. All of whom had been my friends for years, all of whom where smokers and all of whom were going to give me a very tough time about quitting.
The first period of the Flyer's game ended and the ball busting began. No one said lets go smoke a cigarette. It was a ritual we had been practicing for years. At the end of a quarter or a period we went out and smoked. No questions asked.
“Again with this bullshit?” my friend Scott asked. You know it’s not going to last just smoke one.
“Yea, quit being a pussy” piled on Matt.
“You can each suck my dick” I laughed good naturedly while I crammed as many pieces of gum in my mouth as my jaw could handle. Even though I was acting nonchalant it was very difficult not to give in and participate in our time honored ritual. My friends were being hard on me but at by the end of the night they showed their support.
“I’m proud of you man” I remember Scott saying. “2 years ago I was sure you would be dead right now.”
-
I glanced at the ground about a third of the way up the hill and chuckled. It was the spot in Smedley Park I had collapse two weeks earlier. Now fourteen days without a cigarette and I wasn't even breathing heavy. Few times in my life had I ever felt so satisfied with myself. It was like going from a bike with zero suspension to one with full suspension. The proverbial eureka moment. As I climbed higher another mountain biker came into view. I prayed to god it would be Tim. To let them know of my intent to pass I called out, “on your left!” It was not Tim but the fact I had not seen this biker when I started the climb added to my feeling of accomplishment.
2nd Draft
Quitting
The invasive sound of rush hour traffic made a mockery of Philadelphia's I-476 sound barrier and polluted the Smedley Park woods. I had just discovered a fairly entertaining pump-track for my free-ride mountain bike in a pine grove on a ridge bordering the Blue-route. I approached the first berm at generous speed and whipped around embracing the g-forces and began pumping the rollers accelerating to higher speed with each one. If you have ever been on a roller coaster going over camel humps the sensation of weightlessness is the same. After eight rollers I shot through a bermed S curve, pumped a right bermed roller and finished off with an aerial whip over the eight foot jump that ended the track. It was then I noticed a chubby thirty something man on a cross-country bike observing me. His name turned out to be Tim and he offered to show me the rest of the park. Due to his weight I thought I was about to enjoy a leisurely ride through the woods. It started out simple enough as we descended down from the pump-track ridge. Tim was heavy on his brakes and it took much concentration not to rear end him. I remember thinking how much better of an athlete I was than Tim. Then the trail flattened out winding its way through a swampy section of park and I started having trouble keeping up. I quickly wrote this off clinging to the notion; I'm a better athlete then Tim . My bike sat on 26 inch wheels and was setup for downhill and dirt jumping. Tim’s bike sat on 29 inch wheels and was built for that kind of riding. Then we came to a relatively long steep climb. However, not the worst I have ever seen. Now maybe it happened because I was pushing myself to keep at Tim’s pace or I was just a tad rusty, but a third of the way up the climb I collapsed. My lungs burned as they labored uselessly to pick up oxygen, my throat painfully parched pleaded for water but I didn't have the air to drink. As Tim’s chubby silhouette disappeared up the hill I resolved right then and there to never smoke a cigarette again.
I was 24 at the time of this decision (still am it has been two months). I had been smoking one pack of Marlboro Reds a day for about a decade. I picked up smoking cigarettes at the age of thirteen. At first I would just have one after school. However, waiting outside of gas stations asking people to buy me smokes soon became a daily occurrence.
In the past year and a half my life changed a great deal. I gave up on my hard partying lifestyle, quitting alcohol and all drugs. Furthermore, I rededicated myself to athletic pursuits I had allowed to slip in recent years. I had given up on alcohol, marijuana, prescription drugs, party drugs and heroin (a story for a different time). Cigarettes seemed to be the last vice I just could not let go. I think it very fortunate I collapsed that day in Smedley Park because it finally gave me the motivation I needed to quit smoking. Judging by my performance just a short time afterwards I wonder how well I’d be able to perform if I never smoked in the first place?
“FUCK!” I screamed, as I frantically grabbed for my phone to silence the alarm. It was 9am on my first full day without cigarettes. I had zero intention of getting out of bed. For a decade I've woken up and sparked up. With that option gone the idea of getting out of bed was a pipe dream. Luckily my only plans for the day weren't until later. I stayed in bed as long as possible and when I did finally move it was pushing 1 o’clock in the afternoon. I immediately started chomping on several pieces of gum to give my mouth something to do. Once I got on my bike thoughts of smoking left my mind but it was the night that worried me. I was meeting some friends in the city to watch the Flyers game. All of whom had been my friends for years, all of whom where smokers and all of whom were going to give me a very tough time about quitting.
The first period of the Flyer's game ended and the ball busting began. No one said lets go smoke a cigarette. It was a ritual we had been practicing for years. At the end of a quarter or a period we went out and smoked. No questions asked.
“Again with this bullshit?” my friend Scott asked. You know it’s not going to last just smoke one.
“Yea, quit being a pussy” piled on Matt.
“You can each suck my dick” I laughed good naturedly while I crammed as many pieces of gum in my mouth as my jaw could handle. Even though I was acting nonchalant it was very difficult not to give in and participate in our time honored ritual. My friends were being hard on me but at by the end of the night they showed their support.
“I’m proud of you man” I remember Scott saying. “2 years ago I was sure you would be dead right now.”
-
I glanced at the ground about a third of the way up the hill and chuckled. It was the spot in Smedley Park I had collapse two weeks earlier. Now fourteen days without a cigarette and I wasn't even breathing heavy. Few times in my life had I ever felt so satisfied with myself. It was like going from a bike with zero suspension to one with full suspension. The proverbial eureka moment. As I climbed higher another mountain biker came into view. I prayed to god it would be Tim. To let them know of my intent to pass I called out, “on your left!” It was not Tim but the fact I had not seen this biker when I started the climb added to my feeling of accomplishment.