Losing Time

I always think of Pink Floyd when I think about the passage of time, because really...who said it better?
Looking in the mirror the other day, I realized that I was starting to look older, and it honestly scared the bejeesus out of me. When you're in your early to mid-twenties its no big deal. You go out and party, stay up all night, sleep a couple hours, then head on into work like its nothing. Now, if I don't get at least six hours I'm worthless. If I have more than 4 drinks I can barely function the next day. Sad? Yes. Part of life? I assume so. It doesn't mean I have to like it.
This year has been a strange one though. Lots of changes. For one, I am stopping with the smoking. After damn near 14 years of it, I quit. That's no easy task. Not only do you want to make out with every smoker you see, sucking every bit of nicotine off their lips, but you feel like a twitchy crack addict when you're in a bar. But then again, the smell of smoke is so disgusting when you're not used to it. A very confusing drug to quit. I'll confess now that I've cheated here and there, every time when I've been drinking. For the most part though, there have been no cancer sticks for almost 3 months now. Which leads to the second big change....
Crossfit. Hoo-boy, is that a bitch and a half. I'll be eternally grateful to El Supremo for suggesting it, but I also curse his name every time I do a clean and jerk. Crossfit is addictive. Perhaps that's what I've replaced my cigarette addiction with, an exercise addiction. I feel stong, I'm running, can you believe it? I'm fucking running. Who knew it was possible? My coaches rock. The other people I workout with rock. Its expensive as fuck, but totally worth it. And I'll be sure to thank Crossfit after I make my first grab, I'm sure the poor civilian I pull out will be grateful they kicked my ass everyday too.