Over a couple of beers after a volleyball game in April, a few days before Dave was to run the Boston Marathon, Coach Kendall convinced me to run a marathon. I went home and immediately signed up for the Chicago Marathon. After promptly telling family and friends, I was locked in. The next day I stepped on the treadmill and shin splints stopped me after about a mile. I tried to keep up with my training schedule over the next six months, but I let other things get in the way fairly frequently.
Finally, race day arrived, and about 45,000 runners lined up behind the starting line. It was hot and sunny, but I was still aiming to finish in under 4 hours. It was too crowded for me to reach my pace group by the time the mob of runners starting inching forward. The first seven miles were physically the most difficult. My calves were tight and it took a while to get in the zone. And consistent with each of my training runs, at mile 3.5 my right foot went numb. Fortunately, by mile seven my foot emerged from its deep sleep and my calves were loose. By mile 11, I felt like I had the sub-4 hour time in the bag - especially with the crowd cheering us on the whole way. But it wasn't too long before I started to run out of juice. By mile 16 I was forced to stop at the portable bathroms to empty the water and gatorade that I had been drinking all morning. As I restarted the engines, my joints made it clear that they thought the game was over. I managed to pull through the 30K mark (18.6 miles) before I had to slow down and walk. The last 7.6 miles were a mix of walking and jogging - with a run through the final mile. Finished.
A 4 hour marathon is a 9:09 minutes/mile pace. My times are below (note the collapse at the end):
6.2 miles ----- 56:36 ----------- 9:06 pace ------ 3:58:35 predicted finish
13.1 miles ---- 1:57:13 ---------- 8:56 pace ------ 3:54:12 predicted finish
18.6 miles --- 2:49:18 ---------- 9:04 pace ------ 3:57:42 predicted finish
26.2 miles --- 4:28:11 ---------- 10:13 pace
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Pickpocket and Half Marathon
After having an orange-carrot Jamba Juice and a gyro, I stopped by Jack Rabbit Sports to buy a pair of running shorts and some carb gel. I was preparing for the longest long-run of my marathon training program so far - thirteen miles, or about two loops and change around Central Park.
I hydrated myself through the afternoon, charged the iPod, and set out for my run around 5:45pm, leaving my cell phone in my room. As I started down the steps of the subway at 14th St. and 7th Ave., I saw a black man in his early thirties reaching into the backpack of a slightly older, white, Jewish-looking woman who was carrying it over her shoulders. As he pulled something out, I shouted, "Hey, he took something out of your bag!"
I am pretty sure he started running up the subway steps after the word 'Hey.' And for some reason, I found myself chasing him. By the time I surfaced to 14th St., he had already crossed the street, and he was heading back down into the subway. I reach for my cell phone, which I didn't have, and I looked around for anyone in uniform...nothing. So I ran back down the same steps and told the woman that he went back down on the other side. I ran underground to meet him on the other side, and as I approached the turnstiles, I saw him at another nearby subway entrance, apparently unable to enter. He saw me, too. And we both just stood there for a second. Then he turned around to run back up the steps, and I pulled out my metrocard and swiped in so I could exit the same way he was going. Just then, another Indian guy - a couple years older and about 40 pounds heavier than me - was coming down the steps. I yelled, "Stop him!" and he pushed the guy against the wall of the steps. I exited, and we both contained him as he tried to resist. Eventually, he made it to the top of the steps, where we pinned him against the building.
He was saying, "She has her stuff! She has it!" as the woman came up the steps with her wallet in hand. Apparently he had thrown it or dropped it on the subway steps in the scuffle. I asked her if she had everything, and she said yes. So we eased up on the guy, and he fled.
We talked to the woman afterwards. As a native New Yorker, she said that something like that has never happened to her, and she was thanking us profusely. She offered to take us for a drink or to pay us some money. We declined and went back in the subway. Since I had already swiped my monthly pass, I could not get back in the subway, so I talked to the attendant, who apparently had seen me run after the guy. As he was asking me for a report of what had happened, I quickly realized that we should have held the pickpocket down for a few minutes while someone called the police. I guess at the moment I just figured that the woman got her wallet back, so the situation was resolved. Though, I'm not sure why the other guy or any other bystander didn't say anything as we let him go.
As I took the 2 train up to Central Park, I rehashed everything in my mind. I wish we had taken him down on the sidewalk and held him until the police arrived. And that was just about all I could think about for the first few miles of my run. Of course, I was also thinking that the guy could have pulled a knife or a gun on either of us in the struggle on the steps. But I found myself thinking about that only after I had started up the subway steps after him. Another question floating around in my mind was what I would have done if I had caught up with the guy alone. I think I may have just chased him around the West Village for as long as possible. It was definitely easier for me to get in his face, knowing someone else had already subdued him.
The conclusion I finally reached was that it was probably a bad idea to chase the guy, but given that we already had pinned him, we might as well have held him a few minutes longer.
In the end, though, I was able to get to Central Park just in time to squeeze out the 13 mile run before dark. And I did not even turn on my iPod. After running on the boring treadmill for the past few months, there was so much around me in the park to stimulate my mind that I didn't even need the music. Despite the humidity, the other runners, the forest, the birds, the baseball games, the rollerbladers, and the bikers all kept me going. I definitely have to continue doing my long runs in Central Park.
I hydrated myself through the afternoon, charged the iPod, and set out for my run around 5:45pm, leaving my cell phone in my room. As I started down the steps of the subway at 14th St. and 7th Ave., I saw a black man in his early thirties reaching into the backpack of a slightly older, white, Jewish-looking woman who was carrying it over her shoulders. As he pulled something out, I shouted, "Hey, he took something out of your bag!"
I am pretty sure he started running up the subway steps after the word 'Hey.' And for some reason, I found myself chasing him. By the time I surfaced to 14th St., he had already crossed the street, and he was heading back down into the subway. I reach for my cell phone, which I didn't have, and I looked around for anyone in uniform...nothing. So I ran back down the same steps and told the woman that he went back down on the other side. I ran underground to meet him on the other side, and as I approached the turnstiles, I saw him at another nearby subway entrance, apparently unable to enter. He saw me, too. And we both just stood there for a second. Then he turned around to run back up the steps, and I pulled out my metrocard and swiped in so I could exit the same way he was going. Just then, another Indian guy - a couple years older and about 40 pounds heavier than me - was coming down the steps. I yelled, "Stop him!" and he pushed the guy against the wall of the steps. I exited, and we both contained him as he tried to resist. Eventually, he made it to the top of the steps, where we pinned him against the building.
He was saying, "She has her stuff! She has it!" as the woman came up the steps with her wallet in hand. Apparently he had thrown it or dropped it on the subway steps in the scuffle. I asked her if she had everything, and she said yes. So we eased up on the guy, and he fled.
We talked to the woman afterwards. As a native New Yorker, she said that something like that has never happened to her, and she was thanking us profusely. She offered to take us for a drink or to pay us some money. We declined and went back in the subway. Since I had already swiped my monthly pass, I could not get back in the subway, so I talked to the attendant, who apparently had seen me run after the guy. As he was asking me for a report of what had happened, I quickly realized that we should have held the pickpocket down for a few minutes while someone called the police. I guess at the moment I just figured that the woman got her wallet back, so the situation was resolved. Though, I'm not sure why the other guy or any other bystander didn't say anything as we let him go.
As I took the 2 train up to Central Park, I rehashed everything in my mind. I wish we had taken him down on the sidewalk and held him until the police arrived. And that was just about all I could think about for the first few miles of my run. Of course, I was also thinking that the guy could have pulled a knife or a gun on either of us in the struggle on the steps. But I found myself thinking about that only after I had started up the subway steps after him. Another question floating around in my mind was what I would have done if I had caught up with the guy alone. I think I may have just chased him around the West Village for as long as possible. It was definitely easier for me to get in his face, knowing someone else had already subdued him.
The conclusion I finally reached was that it was probably a bad idea to chase the guy, but given that we already had pinned him, we might as well have held him a few minutes longer.
In the end, though, I was able to get to Central Park just in time to squeeze out the 13 mile run before dark. And I did not even turn on my iPod. After running on the boring treadmill for the past few months, there was so much around me in the park to stimulate my mind that I didn't even need the music. Despite the humidity, the other runners, the forest, the birds, the baseball games, the rollerbladers, and the bikers all kept me going. I definitely have to continue doing my long runs in Central Park.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
First 'Long Run'
This week I ran 2 treadmill miles Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday with 1 or 2 breaks. Shin splints set in toward the end of my first run and made the next two days a bit rough. Saturday I went for another 2 mile run down the boardwalk in Atlantic City, but I had to walk out a good portion of it because of my shins.
Fortunately, today I went to Central Park for my first 'long run,' and it went well. I slowed down the pace, changed the terrain to the path around the reservoir, stretched a bit more, and I think that may have made the difference. My calves tightened up and were the limiting factor today. In fact, toward the end of the run, my right foot lost circulation and started to tingle.
Nonetheless, it was a good 3 lap run around the reservoir (about 4.5 miles). I think I just need to stretch more before running.
Fortunately, today I went to Central Park for my first 'long run,' and it went well. I slowed down the pace, changed the terrain to the path around the reservoir, stretched a bit more, and I think that may have made the difference. My calves tightened up and were the limiting factor today. In fact, toward the end of the run, my right foot lost circulation and started to tingle.
Nonetheless, it was a good 3 lap run around the reservoir (about 4.5 miles). I think I just need to stretch more before running.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
178:13:34:31
No, I haven't started quoting obscure passages of The Bible. There are 178 days, 13 hours, 34 minutes, and 31 seconds until the Chicago Marathon. Admittedly, not much thought went into my rather whimsical decision a couple days ago to register for the October 12 race. But I hope that my training schedule shows more forethought and planning. Now I just have to find a way to stick to it.
| Week | Date | SUN | MON | TUE | WED | THU | FRI | SAT | Total |
| 0 | 4/13/2008 | 2 | REST | 2 | REST | 3 | 7 | ||
| 1 | 4/20/2008 | 4 | REST | 3 | REST | 4 | REST | 3 | 14 |
| 2 | 4/27/2008 | 6 | REST | 3 | 4 | 3 | REST | 3 | 19 |
| 3 | 5/4/2008 | 8 | REST | 4 | 6 | 4 | REST | 4 | 26 |
| 4 | 5/11/2008 | 9 | REST | 5 | 7 | 6 | REST | 5 | 32 |
| 5 | 5/18/2008 | 5 | REST | 4 | REST | 4 | REST | 4 | 17 |
| 6 | 5/25/2008 | 10 | REST | 6 | 8 | 6 | REST | 4 | 34 |
| 7 | 6/1/2008 | 10 | REST | 6 | 8 | 7 | REST | 4 | 35 |
| 8 | 6/8/2008 | 6 | REST | 4 | REST | 5 | REST | 4 | 19 |
| 9 | 6/15/2008 | 10 | REST | 6 | 8 | 6 | REST | 4 | 34 |
| 10 | 6/22/2008 | 12 | REST | 6 | 8 | 6 | REST | 4 | 36 |
| 11 | 6/29/2008 | 6 | REST | 4 | REST | 4 | REST | 4 | 18 |
| 12 | 7/6/2008 | 14 | REST | 6 | 8 | 6 | REST | 4 | 38 |
| 13 | 7/13/2008 | 16 | REST | 6 | 8 | 6 | REST | 5 | 41 |
| 14 | 7/20/2008 | 18 | REST | 6 | 8 | 6 | REST | 5 | 43 |
| 15 | 7/27/2008 | 6 | REST | 5 | REST | 5 | REST | 4 | 20 |
| 16 | 8/3/2008 | 20 | REST | 5 | 7 | 6 | REST | 4 | 42 |
| 17 | 8/10/2008 | 14 | REST | 6 | 8 | 6 | REST | 4 | 38 |
| 18 | 8/17/2008 | 7 | REST | 5 | REST | 6 | REST | 4 | 22 |
| 19 | 8/24/2008 | 21 | REST | 5 | 7 | 6 | REST | 4 | 43 |
| 20 | 8/31/2008 | 14 | REST | 6 | 8 | 6 | REST | 4 | 38 |
| 21 | 9/7/2008 | 8 | REST | 6 | REST | 6 | REST | 4 | 24 |
| 22 | 9/14/2008 | 22 | REST | 5 | 7 | 6 | REST | 5 | 45 |
| 23 | 9/21/2008 | 12 | REST | 6 | 8 | 6 | REST | 4 | 36 |
| 24 | 9/28/2008 | 14 | REST | 7 | REST | 5 | REST | 4 | 30 |
| 25 | 10/5/2008 | 10 | REST | 6 | REST | 4 | REST | 1 | 21 |
| 26 | 10/12/2008 | 26.2 | REST | REST | REST | REST | REST | REST | 26.2 |
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Launching Version 1.0 of HitOrSplit.com
My first experiment with an interactive web-based game:
www.hitorsplit.com
Play blackjack for free, and practice Basic Strategy - the best way to minimize the house edge.
www.hitorsplit.com
Play blackjack for free, and practice Basic Strategy - the best way to minimize the house edge.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
CL Robbed, Man Shot
After an interesting discussion on Ayn Rand over Green Curry and Panang postponed our screening of The Fountainhead by an hour and a half, Amar, Charles, and I finally began watching at 8:30pm. Just as Howard Roark was about to make his dramatic courtroom speech, Charles leaves, letting us know that he may meet up with us at CL later in the night. After the film ended, we set out for CL.
After walking up a dozen streets to CL, we arrived at the corner right around 11:30pm, just in time to hear: "There's somebody in there. He got shot." I looked around and noticed a few familiar faces - players and dealers from the various Manhattan clubs. CL had only been open for one week, and it had been robbed.
A couple casual interviews revealed that three men with black masks and "sawed-off shotguns" entered the club and ordered everyone to lie down on the ground and take out their money. After no more than about 5 minutes, one of the gunmen accidentally dropped his gun. The gun went off - a bullet striking a middle-aged man in the side. According to one witness, the gunman said, "Oh, my bad. " Scared, the three gunmen fled the scene.
We waited outside the club for a few minutes, as the paramedics and police arrived. A while later, we saw the gunshot victim on a stretcher outside the door, as the paramedics continued to perform chest compressions while they loaded him into the ambulance.
Detectives interviewed the few witnesses that hung around outside the club while the ambulance drove away and we considered all the circumstances that could have led us into the club minutes before the three men with shotguns.
After walking up a dozen streets to CL, we arrived at the corner right around 11:30pm, just in time to hear: "There's somebody in there. He got shot." I looked around and noticed a few familiar faces - players and dealers from the various Manhattan clubs. CL had only been open for one week, and it had been robbed.
A couple casual interviews revealed that three men with black masks and "sawed-off shotguns" entered the club and ordered everyone to lie down on the ground and take out their money. After no more than about 5 minutes, one of the gunmen accidentally dropped his gun. The gun went off - a bullet striking a middle-aged man in the side. According to one witness, the gunman said, "Oh, my bad. " Scared, the three gunmen fled the scene.
We waited outside the club for a few minutes, as the paramedics and police arrived. A while later, we saw the gunshot victim on a stretcher outside the door, as the paramedics continued to perform chest compressions while they loaded him into the ambulance.
Detectives interviewed the few witnesses that hung around outside the club while the ambulance drove away and we considered all the circumstances that could have led us into the club minutes before the three men with shotguns.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
CL: Strad with a Touch of Class
After a home game on the upper east side last Friday (10/19/07), I made my way down to 37th and 3rd to get my Objectivist friend into Strad. After buzzing and waiting, nobody let us in. We figured it was either busy or completely empty (read: raided and shut down). Only 2+2 would have the answer. And indeed it did, detailing the bust that ended Strad's life.
With FvE (busted twice), AC (laying low), and Strad (busted twice, visited at least once) out of the poker arena, Atlantic City began to seem like a more appealing choice. But like acne on an unshowered 14 yr. old's face, the Manhattan clubs - when squeezed - will always resurface nearby. The latest addition to the poker scene is CL - spacious, comfortable, with hardwood floors and central air conditioning that doesn't leave one table frozen while the other one swelters. It's grand opening was Friday morning (10/26/07), and by 7:30pm when I showed up, they were running multiple tables of 1/2 NL, 2/5 NL, and 15/30 limit. And best of all, it's nice and close to home. One 3.5 hour fast and loose 2/5 session later, I was cashing out with an additional 2365.
A friendly discussion with the doorman/bouncer on the ground floor revealed some interesting information about FvE. Apparently, the management of the former west side club was "mean" to the "wrong people," and that was the reason for their short 6 month stint as one of the nicer clubs in the city. But he also said, "Always give a club at least six months."
So at least until April, CL will be the room of choice.
With FvE (busted twice), AC (laying low), and Strad (busted twice, visited at least once) out of the poker arena, Atlantic City began to seem like a more appealing choice. But like acne on an unshowered 14 yr. old's face, the Manhattan clubs - when squeezed - will always resurface nearby. The latest addition to the poker scene is CL - spacious, comfortable, with hardwood floors and central air conditioning that doesn't leave one table frozen while the other one swelters. It's grand opening was Friday morning (10/26/07), and by 7:30pm when I showed up, they were running multiple tables of 1/2 NL, 2/5 NL, and 15/30 limit. And best of all, it's nice and close to home. One 3.5 hour fast and loose 2/5 session later, I was cashing out with an additional 2365.
A friendly discussion with the doorman/bouncer on the ground floor revealed some interesting information about FvE. Apparently, the management of the former west side club was "mean" to the "wrong people," and that was the reason for their short 6 month stint as one of the nicer clubs in the city. But he also said, "Always give a club at least six months."
So at least until April, CL will be the room of choice.
Friday, June 22, 2007
NYPD Raid Underground Poker Club
After work this evening, I stopped by my apartment to grab my umbrella, and walked 11 streets up 6th Ave. and turned the corner at 27th St. I had a few hours to play a little $1/$2 No Limit, and FVE was quite nearby. I rode the elevator to the third floor, passed through security, and laid 3 hundred dollar bills on the counter - in exchange, I got a rack of 8 $25 purple chips, 20 $5 reds, and a seat facing the back wall. Somewhere between 10pm and 10:30pm I had just lost a few hands, but I was still sitting with about $450 in chips when the dealer stopped and stared over my shoulder. Somewhat annoyed that he was not dealing out the next hand, I asked him what was going on. No response.
I turned around, and about 15 NYPD detectives were walking in the front door. The constant din of chip shuffling and table talk ceased. "Continue what you were doing," said one officer to the room full of people seated at 12 poker tables. So in an awkward silence, I posted my big blind, and we played another hand. After observing about one hand at each table, the police announced that they had a warrant to search the premises. As requested, we took out our IDs and placed our hands flat on the table. The police collected all the IDs and began to search everyone one by one. They emptied the players' and dealers' pockets - chips, cash, wallets, and phones. I am almost certain that they found no drugs, no alcohol, and no Cuban cigars. After the searches were completed, they asked everyone to stand up, in groups of 4 at a time, for photographs. Then they called everyone by name, again one by one, to exit the club as they returned our IDs. All in all, I waited about 2.5 hours before I was allowed to leave.
While some officers were conducting the individual searches, others appeared to be confiscating all the cash behind the counter. Aside from the state-sponsored armed robbery and the violation of our rights to enter a voluntary agreement with other willing participants to play a game that involves skill, chance, and monetary wagers, the NYPD were very professional. While they did put handcuffs on at least three people for various reasons, they also allowed everyone to use the restroom - one by one. It was as if some of the officers were reluctantly carrying out their duty to enforce unjust laws.
One of the more memorable moments was when one officer tried to confirm the identity of one player who did not have his ID with him. The detective called the man's sister, identified himself, but could not get any information from her for about 5 minutes because she was fully convinced that her brother and a his friends were prank calling her. After asking her to cooperate multiple times, the police officer convinced her to listen to her brother and confirm his address and birth date.
It is also worthy to note here that last Friday, June 15, a different poker club in New York City was robbed at gunpoint by two men. The police arrived on the scene soon after, arrested the owner of the establishment, and shut down the club. Apparently, the robbery and police investigation of the first joint is going to cascade into a crackdown on the major clubs in the city. I imagine that the newly renovated East Side poker club will be the NYPD's next target.
I turned around, and about 15 NYPD detectives were walking in the front door. The constant din of chip shuffling and table talk ceased. "Continue what you were doing," said one officer to the room full of people seated at 12 poker tables. So in an awkward silence, I posted my big blind, and we played another hand. After observing about one hand at each table, the police announced that they had a warrant to search the premises. As requested, we took out our IDs and placed our hands flat on the table. The police collected all the IDs and began to search everyone one by one. They emptied the players' and dealers' pockets - chips, cash, wallets, and phones. I am almost certain that they found no drugs, no alcohol, and no Cuban cigars. After the searches were completed, they asked everyone to stand up, in groups of 4 at a time, for photographs. Then they called everyone by name, again one by one, to exit the club as they returned our IDs. All in all, I waited about 2.5 hours before I was allowed to leave.
While some officers were conducting the individual searches, others appeared to be confiscating all the cash behind the counter. Aside from the state-sponsored armed robbery and the violation of our rights to enter a voluntary agreement with other willing participants to play a game that involves skill, chance, and monetary wagers, the NYPD were very professional. While they did put handcuffs on at least three people for various reasons, they also allowed everyone to use the restroom - one by one. It was as if some of the officers were reluctantly carrying out their duty to enforce unjust laws.
One of the more memorable moments was when one officer tried to confirm the identity of one player who did not have his ID with him. The detective called the man's sister, identified himself, but could not get any information from her for about 5 minutes because she was fully convinced that her brother and a his friends were prank calling her. After asking her to cooperate multiple times, the police officer convinced her to listen to her brother and confirm his address and birth date.
It is also worthy to note here that last Friday, June 15, a different poker club in New York City was robbed at gunpoint by two men. The police arrived on the scene soon after, arrested the owner of the establishment, and shut down the club. Apparently, the robbery and police investigation of the first joint is going to cascade into a crackdown on the major clubs in the city. I imagine that the newly renovated East Side poker club will be the NYPD's next target.
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