I have always been a sort of goal-setter, so New Year's resolutions are a big part of me. In my pre-running fat days, my resolution was to gain no more than five pounds per year. I had that goal for ten years and, on average, I met my goal-- which means I gained fifty pounds. Thus was the start of my running days and related resolutions.

I actually did start running with a resolution to lose weight. I was not really into running, so I made a goal to run for thirty minutes--not thirty-one. I did that successfully for going on three years when I ran my first 5K, and that changed not only my resolutions, but my ability to succeed in them. I believe there is some correlation between resolutions' success and their difficulty.

There are times when I am a tightwad. I do not say that boastfully as I should; just as a matter-of fact about who I am. Prior to training for my first marathon, I wore moderately- priced running shoes. Okay, some might say they were cheap. But hey, they worked for me. I entered a running shoe store once and watched in amazement as some guy followed me in, looked at the newest Asics, tried them on and paid a hundred bucks for a pair of shoes. I am not talking about your Sunday best Bostonians, just a lousy pair of sneakers. I made a resolution right then and there. I would never, repeat never, buy with such casualness a pair of hundred dollar advanced version of my old PF Flyers.

Then I found out the guy replaced his shoes every four to five hundred miles. I did the math and thought, a C-note every couple months. No way. I almost cried that day as I bought my first real pair of shoes, but I stayed below the century mark, holding dearly to my resolution. Okay, after taxes it was not much below, but I knew I only bought a pair once every fifteen months. Of course, that was in my low mileage days. Well, recently I checked on my shoe expenditures. I must mention that I get way more than five hundred miles out of my shoes-- actually, double that. I also am obligated to state that when I train for ultras, my mileage is a few thousand a year. Figuring I need cushioned trainers, trail shoes, racing flats, and cross country shoes, I have slowly eroded away at my shoe tight- waddiness to the point where I am approaching Imelda Marcos in my number of shoes. Maybe I need to revise my resolution somewhat.

My second never-kept resolution is to break three hours in a marathon. Now I have come close, and I recently saw a chart with the data on how a headwind slows a runner, and, using that, I would have broken three at Grandma's Marathon a couple years ago, but somehow, woulda or shoulda never counts in this department. I trained to break three. I ran other distances that extrapolate out to a sub-three hour run. Subsequently, I have acquired a list of excuses for failure; the only time a blister ever was a problem in a race, the strong headwind that is usually a tailwind at Grandma's, catching a cold a week before the race, hills, heat, humidity, and of course, going out a wee bit too fast (okay, I went out at a running with the bulls at Pamplona attitude). What I need to do is change my resolution from a sub-three marathon to the longest list of excuses for failure. That one I could achieve; plus it would be much easier than that training hard part.

There are lots of small resolutions that I have made over the years, such as being on the cover of a prominent running magazine. The only problem is, no magazine wants to Photoshop out all the imperfections and hairy legs on the cover does not equate to increased magazine sales. I also thought it would be nice to find a sponsor for my race entry fees. This is not due to some fame that I hoped I would have, but rather something closer to the tightwad part that looks at how much I spend each year to do what basically can be done for free. So far, no takers on that one.

Then I thought I should resolve to do something that I can control; something reasonable and less difficult than a faster race or running in cheap shoes. Then it hit me. I resolved to promote running, the thing I truly love to do, and to share the experience of running with others. I figured if I could recruit some novice runners to our club, they would enjoy the company of running with others, see how others have started slowly as they have, and realize how great this can be. Yes, that was it. I would be the recruiting poster. Note that many runners my age already have joined up with one running group or another, so I decided to work on the youngsters, you know, those in their twenties and thirties.

I started by running and talking with some wonderful young women. I talked about our running club, our weekly long runs, and our social events. No luck, zero, and strike three before I even tried. One of my running buddies pulled me aside. The conversation was like this.

"Do you remember when you were that age?"

I replied, "Yes, I am not that old."

"And as a twenty-something, did you hang around with your grandma?

"Well, no," I replied.

"These women do not want to hang with gramps either."

I got the point. Still, I felt a compelling need to bring more people into the fold so they could experience what has become my wonderful life. Then it hit me. What if I recruited older women? Then I would be the young guy that would make them feel good and desire to join our club. Of course, a few weeks later I realized that at 50, the old women are my age, and it is no special deal to have some geezer ask them to join his club.

So it was then I realized what my New Year's resolution should have been all along. This year, I am going to overspend on shoes and race entry fees, I will run slower than ever, and as I cruise past those young 'uns who are not part of a running club, I will think about all the fun they are missing. Then I will join up with my friends for a post-run breakfast, but I have to watch what I eat. I promise not to gain more than five pounds this year.