All were watching as a heavyset forty-six-year-old woman, with cornflower-blue eyes, a sweet smile, and auburn hair parted neatly in the middle, struggled to keep pace on a treadmill.
Flip with his breakfast cereal smile, in his zip-up land speed suit, made of a silvery-blue ripstop cloth that refracted to lavender at angles and folds, and lace-up racing boots that were the color of vanilla ice cream.