Week 4: Dissenters in the midst

When second-hand smoke rage hits home in an exclusive restaurant, Clare realises she is well on her way to joining the smug ex-smoker club. Fancy joining her?

Have your say on Clare's stop smoking progress and share your own stories, experiences and advice.

Three weeks down and I'm getting pretty confident I have cracked it. My smoking celibacy is no longer nagging away on an hourly basis, and I genuinely am feeling the positive effects of being a non-smoker. The cravings are still there, but are much more manageable and less frequent - hoorah!

I was one of five friends who stopped smoking, Charli and five (now-six)-week-Gemma you have met. But the two others, who shall remain anonymous as I am not in the business of naming and shaming (but you know who you are don't you Amy and Gaby), both brought their fags to the pub with them the other night having leapt shamelessly off the wagon and back into the tobacco fields. For the first time I was the only non-smoker at a table of smokers and I must admit I did salivate momentarily as they delved into their Marlborough Lights packets and lit up.

As the night wore on however, I barely registered that I was not smoking, noticing instead how much other people smoke. And actually, I think most of my smoking mates smoke less than I used to. Indeed, the same happened when I went to Sketch for afternoon tea the other day. As I was tucking into my smoked salmon sandwich (with the crusts cut off - ahh the joys of rediscovering taste buds), someone lit up behind me and instead of inhaling deeply with nostalgia, I felt a bit peed off that my smoked salmon sandwich was suffering from second hand smoking. And even worse, I very very nearly did that super annoying non-smokers 'cough' - the one that is pointedly aimed at the smoker and says 'look how RUDE you are, you are making me ILL'.

There is something about being a new non-smoker that makes you incredibly annoying to everyone around you. There is a certain smugness, a certain 'if I can do it, you can do it' that makes people who still smoke want to slap you - hard. I should know, I avoided the newly-tobacco-free for at least six months, or until they started smoking again. So I am painfully aware of not preaching - especially as I know that if I let my guard down for a minute the temptation will be back, which is what happened last time.

The last time I quit smoking, I quit drinking at the same time. I had a moment of madness and decided I was going to run the London Marathon, deprive myself of my two favourite pleasures and replace them with cold mornings, constant stiffness and a non-existent social life. I threw myself into training, five mornings a week speed training, hill training and interval training plus a long distance run at weekends of between two and three hours. I was jumping into freezing cold baths (fancying myself as a bit of a Paula Radcliffe), nursing broken toe-nails, fending off knee injuries and suffering nipple chaffing.

Then, a week before the big day, I had terrible pains in my shins, one trip to the docs and an x-ray later revealed that I had broken my shins - literally broken them. I had trained so hard that I had developed stress fractures in both legs and had to pull out. Yes, it is a very sad tale I know - but what did I do? Went home, put my feet up on the sofa, turned to America's Next Top model and tucked into a bottle of vodka and a packet of fags.

So no, I shall not be slapping myself on the back and preaching to my mates about how great I am to have given up just yet...not until I have suffered numerous disappointments, stresses and the odd broken bone as a non-smoker will I be able to say I am truly free.

Don't forget to come back next week to see how Clare is getting on! In the meantime why not visit the Stop Smoking Message Board?

See Page 2 for a reminder of previous diary entries.

Week 3: Can stopping smoking pile on the pounds?

I'm doing well - just over one week down and I am finding it easier. Some of my mates are quitting too, and alongside the support, a touch of female competition is helping me stay focused

Have your say on Clare's stop smoking progress and share your own stories, experiences and advice.

My friend Gemma, (five weeks cig-free) claims that she is putting on weight even though she isn't eating any more than usual. According to 'five-week Gemma' your metabolism slows when you quit, something to do with your body getting lazy about not having to pump out all the toxins provided in the past by those little white sticks. Either way, we both agree that a few pounds here and there is a small price to pay for being smoke-free and healthy.

I didn't think I was eating any more either, except last night when I got home and realised this was the first evening I would be on my own - without even a cigarette for company.

I suffer boredom very easily, and in the past, the first thing I would do when I was bored was light a cigarette. The problem with being a bored non-smoker is that you are not only bored, but you start contemplating. And contemplating leads to craving.

I sit on my sofa and stare at the wall. Are my fingers itching? I get up and make a cup of tea. I sit down with my cup of tea. I wonder why the hell I don't have a television. I can't be bothered to read anything and I have watched all my DVDs. I watch some DVD extras. Still my fingers are itching. I think I smell smoke. I open the window. Is someone smoking? I inhale - no smoke.

Tick tock tick tock...

The biscuit tin! I remember the biscuit tin! The biscuit tin provides me with approximately an hour and a half of relief from the boredom. Metabolism my a@*e!

Running for buses!

I ran for a bus! Okay, this isn't the first time I have run for a bus, but this is the first time I ran for a bus and really enjoyed doing it! It was exhilarating as opposed to exhausting because my lungs seemed to be relishing the workout, not crumbling beneath it.

I am noticing some definite physical positives to my smoke-free existence (two weeks!). In the last couple of days two people have noticed that my skin has improved, and I think it has too. My face seems less grey and papery, and the broken veins are gone. It's less dehydrated and just feels more elastic and healthy.

Plus, remember those morning cigarettes? The two I used to have before I even got into the office? Well I no longer think about them, or the loss of them in the morning. And I really enjoy the walk to the train station now, mainly because I can breathe - which is always nice. I seem to be looking up and noticing more in the street, I don't know what it is exactly. I just feel more relaxed.

I have got control of the biscuit tin (it's now out of reach) but I've also worked out that the weight gain thing could also be associated with the fact that I am starting to taste things properly again. I was eating a bowl of pasta the other day and making these rather guttural (and slightly inappropriate) groans of pleasure. It was just a bowl of pasta but my lord, it tasted good!

Plus, I don't avoid non-smoking restaurants like wagamama anymore, so I am appreciating a whole new culinary world, which may cost me a couple of pounds on the waistline, but if that bowl of pasta is anything to go by I really don't care. The best thing is that I worked out that I have so far saved £70 on not smoking. So I went out and bought myself a couple of new tops in the sales to celebrate!

Don't forget to come back next week to see how Clare is getting on! In the meantime why not visit the Stop Smoking Message Board?

Week 2: My first day as a non-smoker

Can our heroine last 24-hours without a fag? Clare faces her demons in her local pub and learns something about hangovers

Have your say on Clare's stop smoking progress and share your own stories, experiences and advice.

I have a dirty secret: I usually have two cigarettes before I even start work, one on the way to the tube, and another on the way to work from the tube. It's my little routine, and I have been reluctant to let it go.

I left Allen Carr's clinic a sceptic, yet something is working. I left the house and thought about that first cigarette this morning. I thought 'I could go to the shop and just buy some' but then I thought 'why would I really, really want to do that?' And before I knew it, I was thinking about something else. I got to work and realised I hadn't even thought about the second one I usually have on the walk to the office.

The day went on, and although I have been thinking about cigarettes, its more the anticipation of thinking I will want one when I have lunch, pop out for a coffee or go outside to call my mum on my mobile.

But I find myself enjoying a smoke-free lunch, nipping out for short walks and coffee breaks in place of a cigarette break, and basking in the applause of my mother, sans cigarette. 'You've gone a WHOLE DAY? Wow, well done you!' (Aged 28, my mum still upholds positive parenting).

And, can I say this? So far, I am not finding it so hard. The last time I gave up I think I found it much harder, especially the first few days. But although I am being mildly annoyed by the odd nicotine niggle, each time I squash it I feel bolder and more confident that I will quit - for good!

Night on the tiles - fag-free?

My first test: a drunken night out down the local with my best friend Charli. Charli has also quit, and so when we meet we both look a bit nervous. I have been smoke-free for only two days - she for three. I think we are both worried that we were going to have a really bad night: we'll bore each other silly and conclude that our 10-year friendship cannot survive without the dreaded weed.

Previous nights such as these have always involved smoking. Smoking, smoking and more smoking. I regard nights in the Faltering Fullback - to Allen Carr's chagrin - as some of my top smoking memories of all time. How we devoured those little white sticks without a care in the world, filling ashtrays to bursting, blowing smoke all over each other in an orgy of nicotine, the sound of our clippers clickety-clicking into flame. Ahh, happy days.

We buy beer and exchange pleasantries. Then Charli announces that she 'wants a cigarette' then straight away says 'no I don't.' I know how she feels, it's that nicotine monster rearing its ugly head. But we squish and squash it with each gulp of Kronenburg and before we know it we are roaring with laughter like the fooligans we always were. But this time we are not smoking.

The happy flow of conversation, the banter, the confessions, the gossip, the 'this and that' which has always made evenings with Charli such fun, are unchanged. The only difference is that the ashtray remains clean. I stagger home smelling more brewery than ashtray, but with both my friendship and smoke-free lungs intact!

NB - note from the next morning: I discovered that alcohol still gives you a hangover even if you don't smoke, but without the gluey sore lungs, hacking cough and stinking hair and breath - it ain't half as bad!

Don't forget to come back next week to see how Clare is getting on! In the meantime why not visit the Stop Smoking Message Board?

Week 1: I am, therefore I smoke

My name is Clare Spurrell and I am an addict. My problem is cigarettes, lots of them, about 20 or more on a bad day, but 2007 is the year I'm going to kick the habit for good.

Have your say on Clare's stop smoking progress and share your own stories, experiences and advice.

I remember when I tried my first cigarette. I was probably about 10 and it was one of my granny's Consulate menthol cigarettes. I was in her small, perfumed bathroom in Scotland with the widow open.

I continued to try them on and off from that point and I've been a dedicated smoker for the last 13 years. However, I'm now approaching 30 and I want a clean bill of health as well as a head start on the new anti-smoking legislation that will ban smoking in public places in the UK in the summer.

2nd January 2007 - Quit Day

I woke up this morning and lit a cigarette, not something I usually do I must admit, but today I am going to Allen Carr's Easyway treatment day. Although I have been preparing mentally for this day for a couple of months now, suddenly I am no longer feeling so confident. So I smoke, a lot...

I arrive at the 'clinic', it's a bit like a doctors surgery, and I am lead into a room where 13 other equally terrified looking people are sitting around on comfy floral reclining chairs. I meet Chris, the man who is apparently going to make me quit. He doesn't look tough enough. I wonder how he will look wrestling me to the ground while attempting to pry cigarettes from my clenched fists. I'd win, hands down.

Chris begins to dispel many of the myths that I had assumed were true about my addiction to the evil weed. He says: 'We avoid using the term "giving up". There is nothing to give up. There is no pleasure or benefit to smoking.'

I realise my previous efforts to quit were bound to fail because I relied on will power alone. I understand that I need to change my attitude to smoking cigarettes, but in some ways all this sounds too simple, and in others too hard.

I am not alone, during the frequent cigarette breaks that punctuate the session my fellow wannabe non-smokers strongly debate Chris, and Allen Carr. 'I don't feel any different,' claims one. 'I don't think its working,' another says. I agree. As the day goes on, I start to wonder when exactly this miracle that everyone goes on about will happen to me. The course boasts a 90 per cent success rate. Trust me to fall into the latter 10 per cent!

We smoke our final cigarette. It's a bit of a ritual. I concentrate on the finality of the moment, but there is a little voice in my head still saying 'yeah, riiiiight.' We have to put our cigarettes in a big, black bin. I am wondering if I can sneak them back out again without Chris or any of the others noticing.

I leave. I don't smoke. I get the train and, as Chris requested I do the final task of recording what I remember about being a smoker, because apparently I am now a happy non-smoker.

Here is what I remember about smoking:

1. Waking up in the middle of the night short of breath
2. Standing alone in the cold at my parents' home or outside work, the only smoker in my family and in my office
3. A cough that would not go
4. Lethargy and tiredness
5. Feeling ten times worse after a heavy night because my lungs hurt from the amount of cigarettes I had smoked
6. Ash stains on my carpet of my new flat, plus a smell of cigarettes in my new furniture
7. Having bad breath
8. Smelling of cigarettes around Lily Mei, my four-month-old niece. Feeling dirty and impure
9. Having bad and congested skin
10. Being self-conscious around non-smokers and children

I go home, I don't smoke. I keep thinking 'any moment now, I am going to have to have a cigarette.' But that moment isn't coming. Have I been assimilated? I go to bed, cigarette-free! Something strange is happening. I am cautiously excited.

Don't forget to come back next week to see how Clare is getting on! In the meantime why not visit the Stop Smoking Message Board?