I am trying to quit the demon weed by joining the Herald team entering the nationwide Wero Challenge. I was sure I would score below Megan, as I don't puff as many cigs as she does.
I nearly keeled over when the score came back as a whopping 25. It blew away everyone else on the team's efforts. It began to sink in I might have a little problem. I might not be that heavy a smoker, but time is clearly taking its toll.
It all started about 30 years ago in my native Glasgow, with a packet of 10 Benson & Hedges.
I had no idea I was setting up an addiction that would have me in a vice-like grip for the next three decades and more. The weekly pack of 10 soon became a daily purchase.
Within months, I had graduated to packs of 20, and smoking suddenly seemed as natural as breathing.
Even though I was now a 20-a-day man, I never really thought I was hooked.
In between times, I did manage to stop. One smoke-free stint even lasted for six years.
I vividly recall the day I picked it up again. I even fooled myself into thinking I had done it strictly on doctors' orders.
A chest infection unrelated to smoking sent me to the quacks in the early 1990s. I told my GP I'd stopped puffing on the fags years back but did enjoy an occasional cigar in the pub.
When the doc discovered I was inhaling the cigar smoke, she jokingly advised I would be better off on the cigarettes. Stupidly, I took this as a green light to start again and I've been back on the hamster wheel since.
So, next Saturday night I will be furiously dragging on what I hope will be the last cigs I'll ever touch. But I know come Sunday morning, the cravings will be attacking me in waves.
Cold turkey beckons and all I have is an e-cigarette to get me over the worst. Perhaps it is time to pray.
