The Stride Part Three

The Stride - Storytelling Midterm

Marcus Thomas

Dec 22, 2024

In 2124, biohacking is common, but the Olympics remain a symbol of pure human achievement, where athletes compete solely on natural abilities, with no enhancements allowed. Mia, a 30-year-old track athlete with hemophilia, had spent years honing her natural speed and technique. Despite her condition, her relentless dedication and strategic approach allowed her to perform at an elite level, earning her a chance to trial for the Olympics. However, training was always a precarious balance—Mia’s hemophilia meant longer recovery times, frequent pain, and the constant risk of internal bleeding that she might not immediately notice.

To compete safely, she was granted an exception to use the VitaGuard—a regulated implant embedded in her upper arm. The VitaGuard uses Near-Infrared (NIR) technology to continuously monitor her blood flow, deploying nano-needles to administer clotting factors only when necessary, ensuring safety without providing any performance advantage. The implant is strictly regulated, using genomic sequencing to recognize Mia’s specific biomarkers, ensuring it only activates when her clotting factor levels drop. Its introduction at the Olympics sparks controversy: a symbol of inclusivity for some, and for others, a step toward blurring the line between fairness and enhancement. Society understands that the VitaGuard doesn't cheat—people do. In the right hands, it's a lifeline; in the wrong hands, it's a vessel for corruption.

As the games approach, Mia feels the pressure mounting. Despite the VitaGuard, she knows she won’t be able to match the natural athleticism of her childhood rival, Lena. One day, Mia is contacted by Dr. Adrian Keller, CEO of Helix Solutions, a biohacking corporation known for pushing the limits of human enhancement. Dr. Keller presents her with a vial of Accelra, a performance-enhancing fluid that can bypass the VitaGuard’s restrictions, masking itself as a clotting agent. “With this, you’ll not just compete, Mia—you’ll dominate,” he says, sliding the vial across the table. “If you don’t take it, we’ll offer it to Lena. The choice is yours.”

Mia hesitates, her voice trembling. “But that’s cheating.” “Is it, though?” Dr. Keller leans in. “You’ve been at a disadvantage your whole life. Isn’t this just leveling the playing field?” Mia wrestles with Dr. Keller’s offer, but ultimately agrees, convincing herself that Accelra will allow her to compete as an equal. Helix secretly modifies her VitaGuard to administer the fluid. Almost immediately, her performance soars. The VitaGuard, now altered, delivers Accelra during her races, boosting her stamina and speed. She wins her qualifying heats, breaking records and drawing worldwide admiration. “You did it, Mia,” Lena says after a race, hugging her. “I always knew you could.” Mia forces a smile, but guilt churns within her. The VitaGuard, once her saving grace, now feels like a symbol of deception, its purpose distorted by Helix.

The night before the final race, Mia stands alone in front of a mirror, staring at the VitaGuard embedded in her arm. The device glows softly; a lifeline that had once protected her is now a shackle.“What does it mean to be normal?” she whispers. “Am I still myself, or just a product of this device?” As the final race approaches, she feels trapped. With Accelra running through her veins she can’t turn back. Without her VitaGuard she can’t beat Lena. She can’t outrun her condition. Her dream would be impossible. But using it means betraying everything she once stood for. Mia uses Accelra one last time, and she wins gold, securing her place as a champion. But standing on the podium, surrounded by applause, she feels empty. The VitaGuard had shifted from being a survival tool to something that distorted her very identity. The world sees her as a trailblazer, an inspiration, but inside, Mia knows she is living a lie. Her victory is hollow, and the guilt consumes her, even as the world celebrates her success.

Desperate to rid herself of the shame, Mia seeks out Dr. Keller. She wants reassurance, but instead, he offers her a chilling alternative. “You don’t have to feel this way, Mia,” he says calmly. “We can make you better. Let us take you further—beyond human, beyond guilt. Imagine what you could become.” Mia is left at a crossroads, torn between accepting Helix’s offer and reclaiming her sense of self. At that moment, she realizes that the VitaGuard, designed to protect her, has now become her moral prison, trapping her between who she is and what Helix wants her to be. As she stands on the brink of two futures, the line between human and machine begins to blur, leaving her to decide which side she belongs to.

The Stride Storyboard

The Stride Part Three

The Stride - Storytelling Midterm

Marcus Thomas

Dec 22, 2024

In 2124, biohacking is common, but the Olympics remain a symbol of pure human achievement, where athletes compete solely on natural abilities, with no enhancements allowed. Mia, a 30-year-old track athlete with hemophilia, had spent years honing her natural speed and technique. Despite her condition, her relentless dedication and strategic approach allowed her to perform at an elite level, earning her a chance to trial for the Olympics. However, training was always a precarious balance—Mia’s hemophilia meant longer recovery times, frequent pain, and the constant risk of internal bleeding that she might not immediately notice.

To compete safely, she was granted an exception to use the VitaGuard—a regulated implant embedded in her upper arm. The VitaGuard uses Near-Infrared (NIR) technology to continuously monitor her blood flow, deploying nano-needles to administer clotting factors only when necessary, ensuring safety without providing any performance advantage. The implant is strictly regulated, using genomic sequencing to recognize Mia’s specific biomarkers, ensuring it only activates when her clotting factor levels drop. Its introduction at the Olympics sparks controversy: a symbol of inclusivity for some, and for others, a step toward blurring the line between fairness and enhancement. Society understands that the VitaGuard doesn't cheat—people do. In the right hands, it's a lifeline; in the wrong hands, it's a vessel for corruption.

As the games approach, Mia feels the pressure mounting. Despite the VitaGuard, she knows she won’t be able to match the natural athleticism of her childhood rival, Lena. One day, Mia is contacted by Dr. Adrian Keller, CEO of Helix Solutions, a biohacking corporation known for pushing the limits of human enhancement. Dr. Keller presents her with a vial of Accelra, a performance-enhancing fluid that can bypass the VitaGuard’s restrictions, masking itself as a clotting agent. “With this, you’ll not just compete, Mia—you’ll dominate,” he says, sliding the vial across the table. “If you don’t take it, we’ll offer it to Lena. The choice is yours.”

Mia hesitates, her voice trembling. “But that’s cheating.” “Is it, though?” Dr. Keller leans in. “You’ve been at a disadvantage your whole life. Isn’t this just leveling the playing field?” Mia wrestles with Dr. Keller’s offer, but ultimately agrees, convincing herself that Accelra will allow her to compete as an equal. Helix secretly modifies her VitaGuard to administer the fluid. Almost immediately, her performance soars. The VitaGuard, now altered, delivers Accelra during her races, boosting her stamina and speed. She wins her qualifying heats, breaking records and drawing worldwide admiration. “You did it, Mia,” Lena says after a race, hugging her. “I always knew you could.” Mia forces a smile, but guilt churns within her. The VitaGuard, once her saving grace, now feels like a symbol of deception, its purpose distorted by Helix.

The night before the final race, Mia stands alone in front of a mirror, staring at the VitaGuard embedded in her arm. The device glows softly; a lifeline that had once protected her is now a shackle.“What does it mean to be normal?” she whispers. “Am I still myself, or just a product of this device?” As the final race approaches, she feels trapped. With Accelra running through her veins she can’t turn back. Without her VitaGuard she can’t beat Lena. She can’t outrun her condition. Her dream would be impossible. But using it means betraying everything she once stood for. Mia uses Accelra one last time, and she wins gold, securing her place as a champion. But standing on the podium, surrounded by applause, she feels empty. The VitaGuard had shifted from being a survival tool to something that distorted her very identity. The world sees her as a trailblazer, an inspiration, but inside, Mia knows she is living a lie. Her victory is hollow, and the guilt consumes her, even as the world celebrates her success.

Desperate to rid herself of the shame, Mia seeks out Dr. Keller. She wants reassurance, but instead, he offers her a chilling alternative. “You don’t have to feel this way, Mia,” he says calmly. “We can make you better. Let us take you further—beyond human, beyond guilt. Imagine what you could become.” Mia is left at a crossroads, torn between accepting Helix’s offer and reclaiming her sense of self. At that moment, she realizes that the VitaGuard, designed to protect her, has now become her moral prison, trapping her between who she is and what Helix wants her to be. As she stands on the brink of two futures, the line between human and machine begins to blur, leaving her to decide which side she belongs to.

The Stride Storyboard

Early Draft

After sharing the first version of my Outlook redesign, I got some great feedback that’s helping me rethink a few key areas. One of the biggest notes was to cut back on overlapping panels—they were crowding the interface and taking away from the clean, focused experience I was aiming for. People also pointed out some redundant information popping up in multiple places, which added to the clutter instead of reducing it. The most exciting piece of feedback, though, was the push to reimagine how relationships between groups are displayed. There’s a real opportunity to move past the usual lists and folders and come up with something more visual and meaningful. It was all great fuel for the next round of design updates.

Final Version

Future Considerations//
Reflections

In the final round of feedback, a lot of the earlier critiques were addressed—I successfully reduced overlapping panels and cut out redundant information wherever it crept in. The new approach to showing groups was also really well received, and I think dropping the old-school ‘VIP’ concept helped make the whole system feel more inclusive and context-aware. One piece of feedback that really stuck with me, though, was a suggestion to reimagine the Focus Mode as something closer to a social media-style feed. The idea is to surface important emails from key groups or favorited contacts in a way that feels more natural and scrollable—something familiar, but tailored for productivity. It’s a direction I hadn’t fully considered before, but it opens up a lot of exciting possibilities for how users might intuitively engage with what matters most.

All things considered, this was a much more enjoyable process than I initially thought it would be. Don't get me wrong, the project interested me from the start, but it wasn't until the push to go further and unshackle myself a bit from UX conventions that I felt like this was something special. This project was a great reminder that even though us designers aren't often seen as people that consider self-expression first when creating, it's great exercise to give ourselves the opportunity to become the client. By just focusing on working out our creativity outside of what's trending, on 'this thing is so ubiquitus it's almost weird that we haven't revisited this', we're opening ourselves up to new ways of lateral thinking.

The Stride Part Three

The Stride - Storytelling Midterm

Marcus Thomas

Dec 22, 2024

In 2124, biohacking is common, but the Olympics remain a symbol of pure human achievement, where athletes compete solely on natural abilities, with no enhancements allowed. Mia, a 30-year-old track athlete with hemophilia, had spent years honing her natural speed and technique. Despite her condition, her relentless dedication and strategic approach allowed her to perform at an elite level, earning her a chance to trial for the Olympics. However, training was always a precarious balance—Mia’s hemophilia meant longer recovery times, frequent pain, and the constant risk of internal bleeding that she might not immediately notice.

To compete safely, she was granted an exception to use the VitaGuard—a regulated implant embedded in her upper arm. The VitaGuard uses Near-Infrared (NIR) technology to continuously monitor her blood flow, deploying nano-needles to administer clotting factors only when necessary, ensuring safety without providing any performance advantage. The implant is strictly regulated, using genomic sequencing to recognize Mia’s specific biomarkers, ensuring it only activates when her clotting factor levels drop. Its introduction at the Olympics sparks controversy: a symbol of inclusivity for some, and for others, a step toward blurring the line between fairness and enhancement. Society understands that the VitaGuard doesn't cheat—people do. In the right hands, it's a lifeline; in the wrong hands, it's a vessel for corruption.

As the games approach, Mia feels the pressure mounting. Despite the VitaGuard, she knows she won’t be able to match the natural athleticism of her childhood rival, Lena. One day, Mia is contacted by Dr. Adrian Keller, CEO of Helix Solutions, a biohacking corporation known for pushing the limits of human enhancement. Dr. Keller presents her with a vial of Accelra, a performance-enhancing fluid that can bypass the VitaGuard’s restrictions, masking itself as a clotting agent. “With this, you’ll not just compete, Mia—you’ll dominate,” he says, sliding the vial across the table. “If you don’t take it, we’ll offer it to Lena. The choice is yours.”

Mia hesitates, her voice trembling. “But that’s cheating.” “Is it, though?” Dr. Keller leans in. “You’ve been at a disadvantage your whole life. Isn’t this just leveling the playing field?” Mia wrestles with Dr. Keller’s offer, but ultimately agrees, convincing herself that Accelra will allow her to compete as an equal. Helix secretly modifies her VitaGuard to administer the fluid. Almost immediately, her performance soars. The VitaGuard, now altered, delivers Accelra during her races, boosting her stamina and speed. She wins her qualifying heats, breaking records and drawing worldwide admiration. “You did it, Mia,” Lena says after a race, hugging her. “I always knew you could.” Mia forces a smile, but guilt churns within her. The VitaGuard, once her saving grace, now feels like a symbol of deception, its purpose distorted by Helix.

The night before the final race, Mia stands alone in front of a mirror, staring at the VitaGuard embedded in her arm. The device glows softly; a lifeline that had once protected her is now a shackle.“What does it mean to be normal?” she whispers. “Am I still myself, or just a product of this device?” As the final race approaches, she feels trapped. With Accelra running through her veins she can’t turn back. Without her VitaGuard she can’t beat Lena. She can’t outrun her condition. Her dream would be impossible. But using it means betraying everything she once stood for. Mia uses Accelra one last time, and she wins gold, securing her place as a champion. But standing on the podium, surrounded by applause, she feels empty. The VitaGuard had shifted from being a survival tool to something that distorted her very identity. The world sees her as a trailblazer, an inspiration, but inside, Mia knows she is living a lie. Her victory is hollow, and the guilt consumes her, even as the world celebrates her success.

Desperate to rid herself of the shame, Mia seeks out Dr. Keller. She wants reassurance, but instead, he offers her a chilling alternative. “You don’t have to feel this way, Mia,” he says calmly. “We can make you better. Let us take you further—beyond human, beyond guilt. Imagine what you could become.” Mia is left at a crossroads, torn between accepting Helix’s offer and reclaiming her sense of self. At that moment, she realizes that the VitaGuard, designed to protect her, has now become her moral prison, trapping her between who she is and what Helix wants her to be. As she stands on the brink of two futures, the line between human and machine begins to blur, leaving her to decide which side she belongs to.

The Stride Storyboard