Clarissa Reese raced ahead, the treadmill tilting as she pushed up the simulated grade of the first big climb in her 10K program. She could feel the sweat evaporating through her Victoria Beckham black-and-gold sportswear. Her TrailHeads headband kept her eyes clear and had a hole for her long ponytail as it whipped from shoulder to shoulder, helping her keep the rhythm. On the screen in front of her, the trail continued its climb up into the trees.
This afternoon, she was the only one in the small gym at Camp David. At least on her treadmill’s screen it was a sunny day; Camp David was drenching wet. For now, it was just her and the array of machines.
Her phone buzzed—the Director of the CIA could never be out of touch. She punched Answer on the screen but kept running. Taylor Swift over
