Running with Pheidippides
Lately I have been confronted the problem of data validity and time sequence. Being able to make a robust decision requires an understanding of not only supporting data and information but also the data's collection methods and its time sequence.
I have taken up running again, mainly because gym memberships are a little pricey and I have able opportunity to run on sand. Not too long ago, in a much warmer climate than my current location, while on a short holiday, I complemented hours of reading in the sun by "running" (I call it running, but it is actually a mixture of sprinting, jogging and running). On one of my excursions, I warmed up by jogging about a half mile down the beach and noticed a very tan gentleman (who we will call Pheidippides) slowly jogging down the beach in the direction I would soon be heading. Several minutes later, I stopped for a quick stretch. Looking out at the rough ocean, I raised my arms and allowed the persistent breeze to cool my torso. Turning myself south, I took a few steps before launching into a full sprint. I lifted my knees high with every step, allowing for full propulsion with each step. After about 75 yards or so, I reduced my sprint to something close to speed walking. This transition was considerably more difficult that I thought because the beach sand was primarily crushed shells and as rather unstable.
I kept my walking pace up for about the same distance as my initial sprint. I noticed, without much thought that Pheidippides looked back in my direction several seconds before I started my second sprint. During the second sprint, I gained significant speed and was surprised at how much distance I was able to cover. If I had tripped at full speed, there would have been no way to catch myself.
While I was speed walking, between my second and third sprint, Pheidippides casually looked back, then looked forward, but then looked back again quickly, a double take. He seemed to speed up after his second glance. At this point, I launched into a shorter, but faster, sprint, covering about half the distance of my previous one in less than half the time. Several seconds after I transitioned from sprinting to speed walking, Pheidippides looked back again. I had gained on him and was by now close enough to see his facially expression of mild bewilderment, as he tuned his head in my direction.
I sprinted once more while Pheidippides' back was turned. After this fourth and final sprint, Pheidippides, who after looking back and seeing me closer but still walking, abruptly turned off the beach and disappeared into an adjacent park.
Pheidippides, who maintained a slow steady jog, had only seen me walking but gain on him. Imagine if Pheidippides and I were stocks. What if the market only had information from Pheidippides' point of view, and that information was used in an investment report, which in turn was referenced in a market research report? Or shall we keep running?
Originally published January 25, 2008