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There was a sporting event in Las Vegas recently where doping wasn't the scandal. It was the point. Privately funded, zero oversight, staged in a parking lot behind a casino, with Bryan Johnson calling the action from under a UV umbrella, his sort of vampiric persona and ethos on full display.
I couldn't look away. So Adam Skolnick came over and we pulled the whole thing apart.
You know Adam by now. Novelist behind American Tiger, the ghostwriter behind David Goggins' Can't Hurt Me and Never Finished, author of One Breath, and a journalist who's written for The New York Times, Outside, and ESPN. He watched every event. I watched my feed turn 90% Enhanced Games. He figured it was a passing curiosity. I figured it was the start of something. Either way, this thing isn't done unfolding.
And for all the superhuman hype? It was kind of a nothingburger. Clean guys won the sprints. The one world record came in the 50 free, and honestly that came down to the banned swimsuit more than any drug. The ones who really benefited were the older athletes, clawing back a bit of what they used to have. Which tells you something.
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