Tuesday, May 12, 2026

Tuesday, May 12, 2026

Good morning, Andy’s Army.

This is Nick. I’m number seven in the Snarski siblings, the youngest of five boys—born just three years after the triplets to a mother with six kids. What was Mom thinking? Or Dad?!

Being the youngest boy, I had four older brothers to show me the ropes growing up.

By the time I was about 12, I joined my brothers working in our family liquor and dry goods store, Ratajacks, which opened back in 1913, if I remember right. The store was sold in 1978, but incredibly, it’s still in business today—113 years later.

So where am I going with all this?

Well, growing up working in a liquor store with my brothers and cousins, most of us boys started smoking cigarettes. I think the only exception was my oldest brother, Bill. I started smoking when I was about 15. Yikes. But back then, smoking was just what you did.

Mom had already quit smoking to set a good example, and Dad quit after having a heart attack—right in court at the Lake County Courthouse. I vividly remember my brother Tim walking up to me and saying, “Dad had a heart attack.” My first reaction was, “Is he dead?” Thank God, that wasn’t the case.

I spent a lot of time tagging along with my older brothers Andy and Tim. That included trips with their friends to Grateful Dead concerts—and even an allday adventure hitting two or three Milwaukee brewery tours for free beer in a single day. Those were the times.

So… How Did Andy Become a Runner?

Growing up, I don’t remember any of us being runners. Andy was a swimmer in high school and played football, but running? Not that I recall. I don’t even remember when Andy started smoking—maybe college?

Fast forward a few years. I’m about 19 or 20, and Andy is around 22 or 23, back home in Waukegan after his time in Oregon.

One night I’ll never forget — something Andy had mentioned previously in one of his blog posts — took place in the basement of 1922, our childhood home. Andy and I decided we were going to quit smoking.

By that point, we’d both been smoking for years. Working at the liquor store meant cigarettes were available at a family discount—or close to cost. My Uncle Mitchell, my dad’s cousin who worked with us, smoked too, so he didn’t mind much if we did. So much for Mom and Dad setting the example—we just kept on smoking.

I’m not sure exactly how the conversation started, but at some point, Andy and I talked seriously about quitting. It just made sense. Mom and Dad had already done it. The big question was how. After tossing around all kinds of ideas, we landed on one: quit cold turkey.

But we figured if we were really going to quit, there couldn’t be any cigarettes left in the morning.

So we smoked them all.

Every last one.

One after another—sometimes more than one at a time—until there were none left. We smoked so many that night we never wanted to smoke again.

And just like that, it was done.

Breaking One Habit by Starting Another

The next morning, I think we both came to the same conclusion: the best way to break one habit is to start a new one.

So we started running.

My first run at 19 or 20 years old probably wasn’t more than five blocks. Five blocks turned into miles. Miles turned into 5Ks—like the Shamrock Shuffle—then the Lake County Half Marathon for me.

Andy, of course, took it much farther.

Marathons.

Ironman competitions.

That single decision—to quit smoking together—turned into one of the best decisions of our lives. A pretty amazing leap for two guys just trying to quit cigarettes.

And if you’re a smoker reading this now, I’ll say this: It’s never too late to try the Andy and Nick method.

Miss you brother, go enjoy a cigar and F-ALS.

This photo is of Andy and me. And I have to say … we both look to be hurting!