New York City has many secrets in it’s many corners, come tucked away deeper than others. Sometimes you can accidentally stumble upon a hidden secret and not know it. Other times, like as I was walking home from ice skating, you can be drawn from the silence into something amazing.
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History with Baker: Vol. 1
I love history, especially New York City history. I have studied it for 15 years, have countless books and vintage maps and should probably find a new hobby.
In today’s episode we are going to talk about The Central Park and running. (Did you know there is supposed to be a THE in front of it?)
The Central Park is a man made park designed by Olmstead and Vaux (who won a design competition) and opened in 1857. I often take the ‘man made’ part to heart especially when walking through places like The Mall with it’s giant American Oaks. Imagine it in 1857 when they were just saplings…
Not all of Central Park is man made. The part of the park I wish to discuss today is one very familiar with runners and cyclists. Today we call it Harlem Hill and (going clockwise) it starts with a downhill switchback. As it levels out it takes a westward turn and begins its uphill course. It’s a very challenging part of the Park’s oval course and is avoided by taking a sharp left at the 102 Transverse. That particular location is going to be our point of interest for today’s episode.

The downhill switchback that begins Harlem Hill is not man made and actually dates back to colonial times, 1756 to be precise. It’s true name is ‘McGowan’s Pass’ named after a family that lived there at the time. They owned a tavern called The Black Horse located just before the 102 Transverse on the left. On the right just past 102, where Central Park Conservancy does composting, is where their house stood. Pretty amazing.

During the Revolutionary War the area was used by troops as it was a high-ground position. In fact, George Washington (the man himself) most likely used McGowan’s Pass to enter the city. Think of that the next time you take a jog down Harlem Hill!
After the Revolutionary War a few forts were built n the area. Fort Clinton, Fort Fish and Nutter’s Battery kind of lined the north part of the Pass from East to West. The next time you run in the winter months, look up on top of the highest point when you start to ascend the west side of Harlem Hill. You will see Blockhouse No. 1, also built at that time!
The McGowan family, prominent in politics, kind of vanish from history in the late 1800’s. Their property was sold (for $6000!) and the St. Vincents Academy took over. It was a school and later a restaurant and tavern! The Park Commission finally closed it in 1915.
I find this so amazing. Could you imagine the old McGowan Family sitting on their front porch watching people running a in a local 10K? I kind of wish the McGowan Pass Tavern, or the Black Horse were still around so I could have a cold beer right after a run!
So the next time you go for a run around the north part of the Park just think about Revolutionary soldiers camped out or a rustic hotel and tavern sitting on the hill.
This is to the right of the 102 Transverse! 
How many times have you run down that hill (to the right is due north)! 
F%$K THAT, Friday!
I had a revelation the other day while Abbe and I were on a 10 mile run to Cafe Habana for the best Cuban sandwiches in New York City. (They are. Trust me I’ve done a lot of research.)
Did you know Cuban Sandwiches were invented in Tampa, Florida? Basically, they are Tampa Sandwiches, not Cuban Sandwiches! F-THAT.
While we’re at it…
The mighty Italian Sub, a staple of daily life here in NYC was invented in Portland, Maine! “Great Scott!” F-THAT.
Also on a more serious note…
Please stop pushing people onto the subway tracks. F-THAT! (Seriously, to my NYC peeps, be careful out there.)
Zero to 100 MPH
Since Ironman NYC I have been kind of in a perpetual ‘off season.’ I mean, I run and occasionally ride my bike on the trainer, but for the most part I have been on triathlon vacation. I was really enjoying it up until right after Christmas…
Something happened to me a few days ago. I think I was fed up with the month of December being a total schmooze fest, with holiday parties and corporate dinners. Whatever it was I totally set myself on fire 6 days ago.
I started off with a one hour trainer ride from hell, sweating my brains out.
Yoga with Abbe. My first time and it was really great!
Next, I ran 3 miles to my gym, did a hard weight and core workout and ran back 3 miles.
Ice skating? Sure why not. I love ice skating more than life itself after all. 1 hour, check.
A smooth 12 miles at 150 heart rate pace was a nice intro back into distance running.
Tonight? Speedwork of course. Where would we be if we couldn’t complain about speedwork? 4 miles at a 5:50 pace will feel horrible tomorrow, but the beer and guacamole I took down with Abbe, Maura and Kelly made it all the worth while.
Please don’t take this as me trying to brag, I am just really excited because I AM BACK!
Zero to 100 miles per hour in 6 days, wooooooooo!
The 3rd Annual Doughnut Run
How do you end the year? Do you eat doughnuts? Oh, maybe you’re one of those people who like to run?
My crew combines the 2 into one harmonious blend of delicious exercise.
We met on the coldest day of the year thus far, it was a balmy 15 with wind chill. Abbe and I were the first to arrive and I suggested we huddle up next to the subway kiosk to gain shelter from the north wind. One by one our Runner Army friends arrived with cheer! The talk amongst the ranks was to avoid going over any bridges, and Brooklyn all together, and just run to the Doughnut Plant to eat. All eyes looked to Elyssa (this was her baby after all) and she said we would just run 4-5 miles around the west side, aiming for the Doughnut Plant.
Taking off due West, we encountered wind from every angle. As Neal said, “It’s the first mile that’s the hardest, as you need to warm up.” Heading north up the West Side path, the entire thing was a sheet of ice. None of us wanted to end our season before it began, so we bee-lined it east off the ice.
We eventually cut across Bleecker, down to Grand and finally to our fabulous finish at the Doughnut Plant.
I chose the Vanilla Bean Glazed which was awesome. We took over the space and had a great time before we all parted ways.
Congrats to a great 2012 everyone!
RACE REPORT: 086 Ted Corbitt Classic 15K – 58:59
I love a good 15K mainly because its such a freakish distance! I think I have run 3 in the last 4 years or something. They teeter right on the edge of, “Should I train for this” and “It’s only 5 more K than a 10K, I’ll just wing it.”
In order to prepare for the run, I went to watch the Brooklyn Nets play the Pistons the night before in the new Barclay’s Center. Todd, Frank, Cottom and I met up at Smoke Shop (no, it is not a weed store) for some BBQ and beers. The place rocks if you are into ribs.
We easily entered Barclay’s at 7:30 and made our way to our seats. Let’s take a moment to discus Jay’s (Z) new stadium. Jay, hats off! What a fine piece of design it is, with a street level entrance right into the heart of the arena. No climbing stairs for an hour like The Garden. They also have local food vendors like Fatty Cue, Habana Outpost, and Brooklyn Burger! I love this concept.
Why do people in Brooklyn seem more friendly than in Manhattan?
Since this is a race report I wont dwell too much more on the game, but know this… BK Nets won by 2 in double overtime at the buzzer!
So of course we had to celebrate.
RACE DAY
I woke up after my 5 hours of beer fueled sleep feeling pretty beat up. Normally, I can rally but I think I may have caught this flu that’s popping around since I had a sore throat.
I geared up, didn’t eat anything, and jogged off to the Start. Blue Corral was already mobbed, so I just walked in and decided to hang in the back of it, especially since I wasn’t feeling too peppy.
Where the front of the Red Corral met the back of the Blue is where I bumped into Kelly! Hi Kelly. We hung out for a bit goofin’ off before we had to get serious. We also saw Dani off to our left who gave a wave!
The gun went off and I started running, but not too fast as I was behind a large group of speedsters. As we rounded the corner and headed into Cat Hill I flanked the pack on the right and started progressing forward through them. I thought I was going to take it easy but my competitive side always gets the best of me. I wasn’t wearing my Garmin (my new thing and I love doing it) so I was just running by feel. I kinda felt like quitting. In fact, the first 5 miles of the race I thought of ways to quit. My chest hurt and I was so very tired, but I had committed to a race…
I was slamming down water at every aid station. I normally never do this but I was quite parched. Maybe it was the salty barbeque I ate the night before or the 5 million beers or I was getting the flu? Who knows? I don’t, I’m no doctor!
Run, run, run, all I do is run.
By mile 4 we were in race formation, single file and were maybe cooking at a 6:30 pace. I would go on to play leap frog with a few tall fellows. The irony of it, was that I would overtake them on the downhills. You would think that with a larger gait and more body mass they would pick up speed? Maybe they were afraid of tumbling? I also saw Abbe (on her run) who yelled out to me!
As I passed Mile 6 I had entered the point of no ‘giving up’ as this is right by my apartment at Engineer’s Gate. My original plan was to just run off the course instead of doing 2 loops and go home and go to sleep. I must have missed my exit.
Coming down the west side of the Park I actually started to feel good. My pace was steady and my form was doing fine, I wasn’t smashing my legs down or anything like that. As a I turned in to finish I had this feeling of ‘maybe I should do a few more miles’! Then, I thought about sleeping and how wonderful that would be.
I ended up finishing in 58:59, a 24 second PR!
| Sex/ Age |
Bib | Overall Place | Age Place |
Finish Time |
Pace/ Mile |
AG % |
| M34 | 125 | 65 | 22 | 58:59 | 6:20 | 70.4% |
For the rest of the weekend I slept a lot and ended up wiping that wicked bug out of me. Maybe that ol’ 15K even helped!
QUARANTINE!
2nd Year on the Kompetitive Edge Team!
Never in 1,000 years did I ever think back in 2008 when I started running, that just a few years later I would have an athletic sponsor and be on one of the sickest triathlon teams in the country!
I’m proud to announce that Kompetitive Edge has renewed my contract and kept me on for the 2013 race year! Thanks guys, I won’t let you down!
F*%K THAT, Friday!
It’s time for another edition of F*%K THAT Friday!
I’m normally very ‘Happy Go Lucky,’ but c’mon! Every now and again something sets us off.
1. As I was getting dressed for work this week I found 2 of my favorite shirts with ink on them! The dry cleaners returned them in worse shape then when I brought them in!
F*%K THAT!
2. As I was walking down Madison Avenue during lunch, a very civilized Avenue, some guy spit and almost hit my shoes! Dude, you aren’t running in Central Park right now are you?
F*%K THAT!
3. During one of my runs after work I was just plodding along at an even pace, nothing crazy when I came across this strange guy. Every time I went to pass him he sprinted so I wouldn’t overtake him. This, mind you, was after work and not any race I was aware of. He also reminded me of the caveman from Scooby Doo, but he ran with his head down and had clothes on.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and said, “F*%K THAT!” and threw it into sprint mode and dusted him.
The Mint Stories
In 2000, when I first moved to New York City I wanted to write about all the unique experiences I was having. Having no writing background or skills, I set out with what I called my ‘Mint Stories.’ Although I really wanted to make some changes to them I have posted them in their original form, unedited.
1.
Somewhere along the way, in my ongoing quest for happiness, I stumbled across something very special. Something that can turn a bad day upside-down. A power so strong it can help you mesmerize others with clarity. It may be too strong for some. The Altoid™, “a curiously strong mint®”, is this special happiness i speak of. You think that is quite an unusual statement to make, perhaps even call me insane to qualify a mint to represent happiness. We have all been there, that place we don’t like to remember: right after that routine breakfast of bagel and cream cheese, orange juice, and a whole lot of delicious coffee. You start to realize that your breath isn’t as pleasant as you would like it to be. It’s kind of sticky, a bit overheated, and is starting to make-even you- nauseous. Now is the time to find that obnoxiously anal retentive coworker (i happen to be one of those people) who might be packing some Altoids. Pure, unadulterated, clean wholesome pleasure is your experience once you accept the Altoid. It’s like a car wash for your mouth! You feel great afterwords, have more confidence, and become more successful on a long term basis. How could you deny that as happiness? The most convenient detail of the whole situation is that you can find these tasty mints at any corner store. Yes, happiness lies at every corner.
2.
Having gone to college in Baltimore, I gained an infinite tolerance towards panhandlers, as Baltimore is the capital city of this increasingly popular occupation. Now that I live in Manhattan and make more money than I ever have, and being as poor as I can remember, i am saddened that I cannot help these citizens. Walking uptown at midnight one evening, I was pondering this problem with no intent to solve it, when a panhandler approached me. There are rules you realize. A person cannot deny someone change, even if they know they have none, without first pretending to search one’s pockets. While looking quite astonished at the reality of having no change to give, my hands fumbled across something, a new addiction I had picked up. An addiction for emergency, only when I really needed it. i figured I had maybe seven mints left in my pocket, surely enough to spare, and this was an emergency. I held his hand still and placed the mint in his palm as if I had just given him a ruby. He looked mildly puzzled at first, as if I were attempting to drug him with some new pill. I smiled and assured him that it was definitely a mint. As I left his company I had not gone two blocks before hearing the screams. “Happy New Year! Happy New Year!” he proclaimed while waving at me. I waved back and then continued on my way with a smile, he had enjoyed the mint.
3.
The NYC subway has an amazing social scene, especially late nights. Every trip I take, has lead me into conversation with some unique character, some too outrageous to be real. One evening, I used poor train placement and chose to stand in the middle of the car even though there were plenty of seats. I had put myself into a really uncomfortable situation, the choice I made was obviously one made by someone who wasn’t thinking clearly. Feeling the eyes of all the other train riders peering me up and down I wondered if things could get any worse? Yes; they could. A most insane panhandler entered the train weaving a sad and perilous tale of poverty in new york city, begging us (all subway riders big and small) to help. He staggered obnoxiously up and down the train, a few onlookers giving change and trinkets, all the rest of us pretending that he had mysteriously become invisible. Slowing to a stop at the next station our man turned to leave and made direct eye contact with me! Frantically searching my pockets I realized I had no change, but I did have something of value to aid him in his quest. “Sir, would you like a mint?” I asked with smiling enthusiasm. He stared me down for what seemed an eternity as I noticed the entire train watching the fiasco. He accepted my offer and popped the mint into his mouth quickly. As he left the train he produced a huge grin of satisfaction as the mint began to work its charm. Observing this put me at a very high mint confidence level. As he left, yet another penniless madman entered our car. Apparently, this man had drank a considerable amount more then the other, as he was pent up with a lot of anger. He duplicated the sad story of the man before him, making me feel like a sucker for giving him a mint, as this was surely the real McCoy of homelessness. The man screaming across the train at me, and knowing I had a few more mints, I nodded; assuring him that I had a gift for him. I produced the precious mint between my thumb and forefinger like a jewel. Snatching the mint from my fingers, he looked at me with a dreadful fire in his eyes. I became a bit nervous at this reaction, the man now backing up slowly. “What is this!” said the angry man. Unsure of how to proceed, I decided to be honest and truthful. “That is a mint.” I said attempting a smile. Someone was throwing gasoline on those fires in his eyes because I was sweating profusely from the rise in temperature! “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this!” he asked. I told him that eating it was his best option. “Fuck you! This is mother fuckin’ New York City!” he screamed while returning my mint to me. If any subway rider was sleeping or not paying us attention earlier, we now had a full audience; standing room only. The doors opened; he left.
How to Kill a NYC Cockroach
It occurred to me tonight after giving my friend Claire strategic advice on how to kill a cockroach, that maybe this was information other people could use.
Some of you readers at home might be asking, “Baker, what makes you so qualified to give this kind of advice?” Great question!
For starters, I have lived here a long time and up until the last few years, in apartments shared by cockroaches. I’m not saying I lived in squalor, just seedy places. I was young.
That reminds me, one time in said apartments I woke up in the middle of the night because a cockroach was running across my back. Try that one on for size at 3AM.
I have also eaten cockroaches. And scorpons. And tarantulas. And Giant Ants. They fear me.
I studied Shaolin Kung Fu in my early twenties (before all this running and triathlon bs) so I’m stealthy.
Without further adieu, I will now introduce 2 techniques I have developed over the years.
The ‘Catch and Release’
This technique is a cleaner approach to the ‘Crime Scene’ technique I will discuss next. You will need 1 Pint Glass or something comparable that wont easily break and some junk mail, maybe a postcard.
While coming from behind, at a low stance, slowly creep to an arms length distance. Hold the glass in your weaker hand (a righty would hold it in their left hand) and get it face down just above the roach. If the roach senses you and moves forward hang back and try creeping in again after a few minutes. Once you have the glass positioned 1-2 feet above the cockroach, swiftly bring it down capturing him! Do not let go as these guys can get under the rim of the glass. You may have cinched part of him under the glass, if so, slide the glass around until he is in the main chamber. Next, while applying downward pressure on the glass, slide the postcard under the cup. When it has sealed up the whole opening quickly flip both the glass and postcard over, keeping your hand on the postcard.
Congratulations, you have just captured the cockroach in a clean and humane fashion. What you do next is up to you. Open your window and drop him out or maybe flush him down the toilet (referred to as a ‘Burial at Sea’). Do not, however, put him in your trash can.
Throw out the pint glass.
SIDENOTE: This technique will not work if he is tucked under the baseboards or in a spot where you can’t get close. Please use the ‘Crime Scene’ method instead.
The ‘Crime Scene’
A less humane approach, all you need is a blunt object. A rolled up magazine, a shoe, or a dish towel will work perfectly.
With the blunt object (I prefer a rolled up magazine) creep up from behind at a low level with arm already extended. Any quick movement will send this character off at crazytime speed. As soon as you are in striking distance slam that magazine down and repeat over and over. Odds are your first hit wasn’t direct, you need a kill strike so keep at it and remember, don’t look away!
It’s called the ‘Crime Scene’ for a reason. When you have succeeded there will be body parts everywhere. It’s disgusting. The magazine is now trash and so is your floor. To anyone watching you, you now have a crazed look in your eyes and a strange grin, they will not sign a lease with you next year.
Good luck and happy hunting!













