New Yorkers are in Central Park, gasping for air. There on a volleyball court, their bodies are streaked with sweat and crusted with sand. They keep a wary eye on Jack Walston, a hard-bodied former Navy SEAL who is pacing before them, obviously peeved. He pauses a few seconds, the words hanging in the heavy air. Instantly the group collapses.
Arms begin to wobble.
Sweat drips from smudged faces. Some members of Team NYC, as they call themselves, groan and sink to scabbed knees. Tony Ladd collapses in exhaustion after finishing his grueling run. The heat wave is on, and the temperature nudges toward 90 degrees. There were another 75 minutes to go.