George prescott bush wants you to know that he is not low-energy.

At least, that's the distinct impression I got when I encountered Bush, the elder son of Jeb and leading repository for the hopes of an endangered political dynasty, one January morning at a CrossFit gym in Austin, Texas.

The day before, Bush had switched up our meeting place from a barbecue joint, where we were supposed to have lunch, to the gym, where I assumed we would exercise. But when I showed up at the appointed time in hastily acquired workout garb, Bush, who was lifting a heavy object, looked at me like I was an alien.