As Malcolm Gladwell’s first season of Revisionist History ends, Lee Davy remembers a lung-bursting run through the streets of LA listening to the great man and what he learned about poker.

I walk outside; the sun hits me, and I feel like a battery on charge. I pick some of the spuds from my ears, plug in the earphones and start running. I don’t get far. The Korean woman is running towards me with her sunglasses on, pink towel wedged under a Lakers baseball cap and a bottle of water in her hand.

I pull my phone out of my fanny pack (as my American brethren call it), and press pause.

“What’s your poison?” She asks.