Resolution or Conviction

July 2, 1979, I went for my first run.  I’ve been a runner ever since.   That sounds easy, but in the beginning, it
was anything but easy.  I was 37 years
old, out of integrity, out of luck, and almost out of cigarettes, when something
clicked. 

I got off the sofa, half-finished
cigarette in my hand, and then looked at the almost empty pack of cigarettes on
the table beside my chair.  In that
moment, I made a resolution: I’m going to
become a runner.   

I walked out the door, flipped the
cigarette into the gutter, and began my first run.  It was almost eight at night, and Laurel,
Mississippi was dark and quiet.  Less
than a minute later, I was grateful that it was dark so no one could see my
first run. 

I ran every day for the next six
weeks.  Resolutions sometimes have enough
energy to keep themselves, going on for a while, in spite of rational protests,
but finally even the most energized resolutions shut down and fade away unless
something happens to transform them from resolution to conviction.

My running resolution was almost
history when my phone rang.  Thinking I
was about to make a sale, I answered in my most professional voice, “This is
Bert Carson, how may I help you.”

A bright, positive voice that I’d never
heard before, said, “Bert, this is Carl Touchstone (much more about him in future
blogs).  You don’t know me.  I’m a runner, and I heard you were too.  Is that right?”

That moment in my life occurred almost
on 33 years ago, and I can remember it as clearly today as if it just happened.  I straightened in my chair, forgot my aching
calves and stiff knees, and said, “That’s right, Carl.  I’m a runner. 
Would you like to run with me sometime?”

When I said, “I’m a runner,” my dying
resolution became a conviction.

********

A
resolution is a wish, a whim, a pink idea floating on a gentle, early spring,
breeze.  A conviction is part of one’s
life – a part that moves through cold icy winters as easily as warm summers.

*********

Last night, at eight o’clock, I got off
the sofa and walked away from the just-beginning, Fiesta Bowl and the warm
house.  Wearing two shirts, a reflective
windbreaker, fleece gloves, a headband that I hoped would keep my ears attached
to my head in spite of the temperature and the wind, and went outside.  At the end of the driveway, I took a quick
hop-step and began running.

Five miles later, running down a dimly
lit side street, I passed a woman being walked by two dogs.  She was so wrapped in clothing that I involuntarily
conjured up a picture of the Michelin Man.

As I passed her, I said, “Good evening.”

Startled, she snapped her head up, saw
that I was old and alone, and relaxed. 
Then she called after me, “You must have made a New Year’s Resolution.”

Without looking back I shouted, “No Ma’am,
I’m entertaining a thirty-three year old conviction.  Have a great New Year.”

**********

I can’t tell you how to turn a
resolution into a conviction, but I can, and will, tell you that if you want to
get off the sofa and stay off of it, you should find out.

Have a great New
Year.