I’m Super? Yeah, Not So Much

Web sites crashing
Tongues are lashing
Fingers clicking like they’re goin outta control

Phones unanswered
Speed-dial prance-er
Just keep hitting buttons. Now we’re on a roll.

Oh! An answer
I want to dance-er!
Nope! Recording says call back. It’s a sinkhole. 

Want my vaccine
I’ll stick with caffeine
Try next week and hope that I can sell my soul!

Thanks, South Park

Kathy Galgano
November 16, 2021

A Rant for the Ages

Wow. No line! Cool.

“Oh, you wiped down ALL the carts? Thanks!”

Hmm. Where IS everybody? It’s so quiet in here! Blueberries on sale? YES! Pie! They’re playing some good tunes today. Uh oh. Don’t panic. Just face the pasta. He’s wearing a mask. Okay, breathe. Phew. Oh No. Was anybody else around? That sigh puffed out my mask the teeniest bit. Calm. I’m wearin’ my Ultimate Ashtma-Preventer-Forest-Fire-N-95. I checked the fit. Nobody’s getting nothing from me, and I’m getting nothin’ from them. It’s okay. Humming. Good song. 

Uh-oh. Shopper approaching. Do they want tuna, too? Nope. Not coming down here. Hmm. They’re in rice. Do I need rice? Nah. Have enough rice. HEY! No more Floor Arrows! Hated those things. Had to keep backing down the aisle every time I got it wrong. Chuckling. That time all the waters and Diet Cokes in the bottom of the cart made the cart swerve? Had to go fast ‘cuz so many people weren’t wearing masks. Ha. They thought I didn’t know what I was doing. I knew what I was doing. Chuckling. And they were jumping out of the way. Cart swervin’ all over the place. Didn’t hit a thing. And who looks at the floor? Hot dog relish is not on the floor. Oh, Shoot! OhMyGod I’m ruined. Store video. Chuckling louder. Let’s see what’s on this aisle. Oh WOW! They have EVERYTHING! The dreaded toilet paper shortage is over. Yes! Nope. Not sanitizer wipes – but everything else. Almost done. I love this song. 

Hey! Dang. I was singing to that. 

“Good morning, Shoppers…”

 Oh, Wow! They have cheese! Look at all this cheese! They finally have Swiss! Thin and thick slices. And blocks of it! I’m getting Swiss! This is great! What’s that?

 “difficult… unprecedented times… challenging, …not been easy… Even though it’s been so hard for everyone… here for you.” 

Did a balloon just pop? 


Breath. Thoughts are racing. I have something to say and it can’t wait. Who can I talk to? I’ll talk to her. I always talk to shoppers, especially kids. Well, usually I say hi and wave. Dad talked to shoppers. Well, Somebody’s got to hear this. They can’t just ruin my day and not know about it! And where’s the Manager? Thank God that shopper’s on this aisle.

“You know, I was having a pretty good day! WHY do they have to RUIN MY DAY?  I was feeling PRETTY GOOD.”

Doesn’t she know I’m talking to her? 


I hope she knows I’m talking to her. Look at all that yogurt! No wonder she’s just standing there. So many choices! It would take me an entire half-hour to go through all those labels. 

“Just bear with me, please. I have to vent.”

Good. She heard me. Finally. Well, even with my mask, I am speaking up. She’s facing me now. She must be done yogurt shopping. 

“I was having a pretty good day, ya’ know? Look at this place. There’s stock on the shelves. Nobody’s yelling at us to “JUST TAKE ONE!” People are wearing their masks! Nobody’s coughing! Nobody’s sneezing! And it’s ALLERGY SEASON! They removed the ARROWS! It’s empty in here for the first time in MONTHS.”

“So WHY does EVERYBODY keep telling us how BAD these times are? DON’T THEY THINK we KNOW? HOW CAN WE NOT KNOW? WE’RE LIVING IN A PANDEMIC! What are we, IDIOTS? Do they think WE’RE CRAZY?”

She didn’t respond. She must not be used to other shoppers chatting with her. Hey, here comes a couple. Turn to the cheese. Turn to the cheese. Take a breath. Nope. False alarm. They must have forgotten something, changed their minds, and now they’re heading back for it. Smart. They don’t want to have to make a second trip later. 


“AND it’s NOT UNPRECEDENTED! They keep saying ‘It’s Unprecedented.’ It’s NOT. There have been pandemics before. They really should PICK UP a BOOK!”

Thank Goodness she’s still there. I’d hate to have to say all this with nobody to talk to. Deep breath. Okay. It’s Okay to take a deep breath. Turn head and lower it to exhale. Oh heck, Right. I’m wearing my fitted N-95. Why is my heart pounding? It’s not asthma. 

“I’m sorry. Bear with me here. I’m old and I just gotta vent.”

Silence. She was still standing there, looking at me. Was I yelling? How come I’m out of breath? Sure it’s not asthma? Nope. No wheeze. Good. 

“Why can’t they just GET ON WITH IT like Everybody Else? WE’RE ALL getting on with it. My parents lived through the Great Depression. My dad fought in World War II. My uncles fought in the Korean War. They taught us to Get ON WITH IT. YES! It’s a HORRIBLE PANDEMIC! It’s SCARY! But WE’RE LIVING OUR LIVES! CAREFULLY! I’m shopping in their store, and finally beginning to relax a little bit. And look at what they’ve done! I’m depressed again.”

“Yeah,” she said.

“YEAH!” I agreed. 

“Yeah! They do need to get on with it.”

Hey! She agrees with me! Huh! Still nobody in dairy. And butter’s on sale. Oh? So she needs bread, too? Oh, Wow. Hope she doesn’t think I’m stalking her to the next aisle. We are keeping our distance. Oh, good. They have whole wheat English muffins. Did I just really rant about a PSA? I do feel better. Phew. Head down to breathe out. Still no manager. And no shoppers in THIS aisle, either. Huh! This bread looks fresh. 

“Ya, know, You can bill me for this.”

“I just might.”

Did her cheeks turn up a little? 

That was a fast check-out. So few people today. These blueberries really look nice. 

Yes, I’ll pay for the bags.”

Hey, That’s my friend checking out.

 “Goodbye!” GOODBYE!”

Why is everybody staring? I’m just saying and waving goodbye to a friend a few aisles over. Hope she hears me before she’s out the door. She’s so nice. She made my day. I’m smiling again thanks to her. Can she see me waving? Can she hear me? Everybody else seems to have heard me. Yeah! She’s turning. 


Ahhh, that was nice of her to say goodbye. And she waved, too. I think she was smiling. 

Oh Crap! The video cameras. 

Kathy Galgano

July 1, 2020


Silencing Senator Warren?

(Letter to Massachusetts Senator Elizabeth Warren after the Senate yesterday silenced her as she read a letter from Coretta Scott King regarding Senator Jeff Sessions and his confirmation for Attorney General.)

Dear Senator Warren:

I am so moved by your experience on the Senate floor yesterday while reading Mrs. Scott King’s words.

Frankly, each morning I wake up more disgusted than the day before at the way our government proceeds with business, bullying citizens of all ranks, shuttering programs that have benefitted so many citizens, flagrantly chastising individuals, corporations, religious and ethnic groups, the press, and anyone courageous enough to disagree and voice concern. That you were silenced on the Senate floor yesterday should not surprise me, but it does, because I choose to wake up each day not accepting this prevailing attitude, behavior and political climate as status quo.

I have taught my children that one voice matters, and that it is their responsibility to work for what is right, and to do so honorably. I am only one voice. But like you, I will not be silenced.

Senator Warren, you are an inspiration.

Thank you.

Kathy Galgano

February 8, 2017



Today Armageddon Team 6 will be covering the end of the earth as we know it, live and remote, via digital TV, streaming video, radio, text alerts, loud-speaker, Morse code, semaphore, smoke and hand signals — 72 hours a day. Our digitally enhanced coverage of hell freezing over will turn you into a mass of shriveled, huddled, hyper-paranoid, bread and milk-hoarding, cabin-fever hallucinating, carbon fuel seeking, valium needing, sleep deprived, whining horde of viewers who will stay fixated on us and drive our ratings into the stratosphere. All other news and sports information will be suspended pending the next global warming.

To yesteryear: In business, the Dow rose 10 points to finish at 750. Soybeans are up, corn is down. And now for the weather. We’ll be getting a ton of snow. In sports, the Bolts won a close one in overtime……

Richard Galgano

January 26, 2014

Online Dating a/k/a “So, You Wanna Date?”

A few friends of mine and I were chatting over dinner the other night. Several told the group their experiences in the online dating scene. After many stories, laughs, a couple of bottles of wine and a round of hugs, I walked to my car silently cheering that I am happily married. Thank God I don’t have to handle the online dating angst; I don’t think I could do it!

For starters, my friends exclaimed that people in the dating pool absolutely do respond to their profiles and bios. Nine times out of ten, they told me, interested persons write scintillating missives such as: “Are you interested in me?” and “Do you want to date?”

Wait a minute. “Do you want to date?” This is the response you get to the bio that you took great pains to write after engaging in months of deep soul-searching? What, are we in first grade? The best conversation starter a person looking for love can wrap his or her little typing fingers around is, “Let’s go out.”? This is the way to woo a potential special someone? Now, perhaps I’m wrong, but I thought the point of posting a little bio is to provide discerning souls an opportunity to see if there is a commonality of interests. Does the profile author show a sense of humor? Is exercise, or music, or movies or travel important to this person? Do they like books? It doesn’t seem to be that difficult. How can individuals looking to share their life with someone be so bereft of the gift of gab that they can’t respond to any of these points? It’s not like they’re showing up at somebody’s doorstep with flowers for crying out loud.

Or perhaps these responders’ MO is a blanket reply; it’s easy to “Control ‘V’” a “Do you want to date?” one-liner and see where that lands you. I suppose there are calculated odds as to how many of these missives a person looking for a date needs to send out to garner a response. Think of all the time saved when you don’t have to read the bios! Just click on one, reply with your zinger, and move on to the next. It’s not a strategy that embraces discernment, but maybe it will work for a night at the movies, someday. Plus there’s no rejection. Maybe one of my friends should add, “I like to calculate the odds!” on a bio. It might lead to an interesting conversation. Well, whether or not one of my friends might want to start a conversation with anyone who chooses to honor her with a first grade sentence is another thing.

But it wasn’t just the replies to the biographies that got us going. The biggest roars came when people started to open up and state their own personal desires that would make for perfect relationships — but didn’t have the guts to state. Over more laughter, a list of non-negotiables began to appear.

I’m looking forward to sharing a glass of wine with my Sweetie who loves being handy in the kitchen! In fact, I hope my Sweetie is so handy in the kitchen that I’ll never have to step in that room again.

I’m looking forward to wrapping my arms around my special someone who embraces invigorating winter mornings and enthusiastically plunges into the morning chill to collect the paper from a snowy lawn and lovingly scrape ice off both our cars.

I’m looking forward to spending quality time with my true love, a good-natured and caring soul who is not afraid to apply a prescription medicinal cream to my dog’s backside.

I’m looking forward to living my life with my soul mate, that loving someone who is adept at unclogging relationships and toilets.

Kathy Galgano

January 24, 2015


I arrived at the Reggie Lewis Indoor Track for day 2 of the United States Track and Field (USATF) master’s national championship just after the events began. I checked in, informed the official that I wouldn’t be running the mile as I had planned months ago, and then learned there were enough volunteers for the day. Looking around, I saw some members of Mass Velocity Track Club, my team, and joined them in the bleachers. I met several teammates for the first time and watched the events. The 60 meter sprints, long jump and pole vault were in progress.

I’m not sure what is more impressive: watching graceful, athletic and powerful middle-age sprinters fly down the track or seeing the very elderly athletes do their sprints. There were world and American records set and frequent applause and lots of oohs and aahs. Occasionally an athlete would do something really spectacular and the air would be filled with cheers. Everyone seemed to know everyone and athletes mingled and renewed acquaintances. I met people who were world-class athletes in their twenties and thirties and heard some great stories. Although the competition is fierce, the friendships are deeper.

I was sitting next to a woman who hails from Australia. Her husband was entered in the long jump and the 200 meter relay. They now live near Washington, DC and we chatted about DC, Boston and Australia. We joked about the trials and tribulations of masters athletes and she laughed when I told her about my ill-fated attempts at long-jumping and breaking my rib high-jumping. She recommended that it may be best for me to stay away from pole vaulting just as the first vaulter made his approach.

If you have never seen the pole vault in person, it’s awesome. As the athletes takes flight, the pole bends backwards under their weight. It then recoils and you can see the force applied to the vaulters as they are thrust upward and forward. Feet above head, they somehow turn their bodies around and then fall backwards onto the mat. Occasionally a vault will not go as far as planned and the vaulter will have to adjust on the fly to make sure he or she lands on the mat. Michael Jordan was noted for his “hang time” when soaring in the air for a dunk. His maximum time aloft was calculated to be 0.92 seconds. One of the male pole vaulters cleared 14 and 1/2 feet and he was in the air for a long time. I found myself holding my breath every time an athlete made an attempt.

One of my favorite events to watch is the shot put. One doesn’t throw the shot put like a ball. Doing so would probably rip your shoulder out of the socket. I’ve tried doing the event a little, mostly to help coach children. Depending on the sex and age, the shot can weigh 16 lbs. It’s a very technical event and the putters aren’t just strong but also explosive. As a distance runner, I resemble Charles Atlas before he started working out. The “weight people” are BIG. Their arms are larger than my thighs. However, they are also graceful and have great balance. I’ve seen them train on balance beams. Most of them are also very fast. I raced some high school weight athletes last year over 40 meters and it wasn’t even close.

While the sprints were underway, I started thinking of entering the mile. Although I wasn’t prepared, I was well-rested (an old runners joke). There was a chance that I would be on a relay team later in the afternoon. Our team had a couple runners interested and being a warm body in the right age group could mean a ticket to race. A couple teammates encouraged me to enter the mile and I went back to the official table to let them know. I changed into my red singlet and running shorts, put on my warm up clothes and started to jog. I had also gotten the word that yes, indeed, I would be racing on a relay team later in the day. One of the problems of being 55 is the length of time it requires to warm up. It’s kind of like starting an old car in the middle of winter. Sometimes I wonder if there will be any energy left to race after warming up. After about 15 minute of jogging I went into the gym and started to do my dynamic warm ups (leg swings, skips, drills designed to prepare one for action). I ran a series of short strides to get used to moving faster than snail pace and went over to the starting area. Unlike road races where one can warm up until a couple minutes before the start, track races require some standing and waiting for your race. The trick is to stay warm while waiting. My age group was pretty large and we had two sections. The slower one usually goes first and I was in the first group. I shook hands with a few of the runners and lined up. The gun went off and I tried to run with effort but sensibly. I was near the back quickly and went through the first 200 meters in 50 seconds or 6:40 pace. This was much slower than I planned a year ago but was hoping it wasn’t too fast for my lack of training. I stayed on this pace for a few laps and while working, I wasn’t gasping either. Some of the faster runners started to pass me but my teammates were scattered around the track and I heard their encouragement. I finished in 6:40 and walked off the track and got a drink.

Running two events is a rarity for me. The last time I tried it, the second race was torture. I decided to jog for a bit then stretch. I hydrated and had a small snack and then went to watch more runners. Inactivity can increase the muscle tightness and an hour before our race I headed back to the gym for a warm up. My muscles were already a bit tight and I thought about Bill Cosby and the can of 3 in 1 oil in his go-cart skit.* (Bill Cosby was a fine athlete who competed for Temple University.) I got as loose as I could and went back to the track.

Teams of relay runners waited on the infield for their races to begin. The wait was longer than expected for my team’s relay race and we all started to tighten up a bit, so we tried to jog in place a little. Some teammates, aware of my injuries, gave me valuable training advice during the wait. The race officials had combined two age groups for this race because seven teams total had entered. In this race, 4 teams were in the 40-49 age group, and 3 in the 50-59 age group, my group. All we had to do was get the baton around the track and we would score points for our team. I was going to run the 2nd leg. My teenaged children had arrived to watch. They both run in high school and we were doing a bit of role-reversal. As a parent and volunteer assistant track coach, it’s good to feel their “pain” once in a while. I’ve learned not to yell “Go faster!” at their races. (I’m waiting for the day when a runner stops and yells back, “If I could go any faster, I would!”)

The runners in the first leg lined up at the start. On the outside of the track near the start, the runners in the second leg formed a group. The third and fourth leg runners also formed groups. My teammate took off and stayed with the main pack through his leg. Relays can be a bit of organized chaos at the exchanges, especially for the sprints, but ours went smoothly. I took the baton (French for “stick”) and accelerated. “Don’t sprint. Don’t sprint,” I told myself, and resisted the urge to go at full speed. I didn’t see the clock as I took off and had no idea of my pace. Going down the back stretch of the first of my four laps, I smiled and thought, “This is a blast.” The first 200 meter lap went okay but a little fatigue started to develop at 400 meters. I was running harder than in the mile but didn’t know if my pace was faster or slower. My rib felt okay. A couple runners lapped me on the back turn during lap 3 and I hoped they were in their 40s. Heading down the home stretch with one more lap to go I was breathing really hard and straining and went through the checklist: “Stay relaxed, lower your shoulders, stay on your toes, don’t drop the baton.” Was my son going to yell, “Use it now!”? (His coach will do this.) I tried to accelerate in the last lap but was probably avoiding slowing down. The final 100 meters seemed to last a long time but the hand-off went okay and my race was finished.

Back on the infield, still breathing hard, we cheered our teammates. We finished 3rd in our group (10 minutes 27 seconds) but were in the same lap as the other two teams. My split was 2 minutes 50 seconds, only 2 seconds slower than my best! We took some team photos, shook hands with each other and the other teams and enjoyed the moment. I picked up a bronze medal and headed home.

Woody Allen was right. “90% of life is showing up.” I don’t care that we were assured of finishing third in my age group (assuming we finished) and that I got to run, in part, by virtue of being a warm body. I got a chance to compete at Nationals and came away with hardware.

Richard Galgano, D.O.

March 16, 2014

* “Reached into my pocket and pulled out my trusty can of 3 in 1 oil.” From the sketch, “Go Carts” on Bill Cosby’s 1966 album Wonderfulness. Go buy it. Trust me; you’ll be happy you did.

NOTE FROM KATHY GALGANO  My brother, running with a busted rib and recovering from just about everything, ran the mile, not in record time for running athletes, but really fast in my book, at a beautiful 6 minutes, 40 seconds and fraction change. Then, he ran the 4 men 800 meters relay, and the team racers picked up team points, and carried away the bronze medal. How cool is that! Image

For a picture of Richard running the relay, go to http://johnkeklak.smugmug.com/Trackandfield/2014-USA-Masters-Indoor-Track/Day-2-2pm-End-of-Day-4×200/37776473_xNMddJ#!i=3129126944&k=3FDm8D3&lb=1&s=M

Welcome, Guest Blogger Richard Galgano — A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Track Meet

Three years ago, I ran my first track meet since high school. It was a blast, and I caught the Masters track bug. Technically I’m a “senior,” being in my 50s. I did a few meets (mostly indoor, my favorite) and joined a track club called Mass Velocity.* It’s a club of Masters sprinters and everyone else; I’m one of the everyone else. Unlike road racing, which attracts a wide range of athletes who run for fun, fitness, t-shirts and charity, track is serious business. I can beat most of the runners in my age category in a local road race but only the really fast people seem to compete in track meets. Whereas I was a mediocre high school athlete, the Masters track folks competed in college and many were elite athletes. The times they run are mind-blowing: low to mid 50 seconds for 400 meters, and 4 minutes 30 seconds to 4 minutes 40 seconds miles. However, everyone is encouraged to participate and made to feel welcome.

I learned there is a yearly national Masters championship for indoor and outdoor track and this month, the meet is in Boston. Unlike the open championships, which have qualifying standards, any Masters athlete who belongs to USATF (USA Track & Field) can compete. OH YEAH! I’M GOING TO NATIONALS.

I planned my training: longer road races in the spring and summer of 2013 to build a mileage base; cross country in the fall for strength; and a season of indoor track to sharpen speed. Visions of breaking six minutes in the mile kept me motivated. (I ran 6:02 two years ago). Sure, I would likely be lapped during my race, but that’s okay. Plus, in most of my adult running career, I have trained by doing my normal running with just a few faster runs. Imagine what I could do with some speed work. In addition, I would be 55 years old at the meet. Most of the age groups are split into 5 years (55-59) making me a relative youngster. With all this training behind me, I figured my times would make me competitive, well, maybe for the 70-79 age group range, but again, that’s okay. I’m going to Nationals!

I should have paid more attention to the omens last spring. I was part of a team, running a five-and-a-half mile leg of a marathon relay last May. It was really cold and raining, and I had to wait a couple of hours before starting my leg. Luckily, I didn’t freeze to death. Anyhow, I’m three-quarters into my leg, trying to stay with a group of runners who were in their 20s and 30s, and I’m running flat out, just killing myself. The people around me are chatting and looked relaxed. We ran by a woman and her young son who were waiting for Dad to pass by. The dad was running the full marathon. I heard the child say, “Hey Mom. Look at that old guy.” I started looking around to see who he was talking about and there wasn’t anyone old in our group. The guy next to me looked at me, and sheepishly said, “He means you.” UGH! GROAN! DAGGER TO THE HEART! Deflated, my pace slowed a bit and I finished my leg. I ran by Bill Rodgers** who was anchoring his team and waiting for his teammate at the exchange zone. Well, at least I wasn’t the oldest person out there.

Two days after the race I went for a slow jog. A couple miles into the jog my calf seized up and I could barely walk home. Undaunted, I cross-trained by swimming, spinning and starting to aqua jog. I stretched, iced it, heated it, saw a PT and finally had acupuncture. The acupuncture allowed me to jog, but not to run fast. It slowly improved over the fall, and by early winter I could run reasonably well. Although my training schedule had been destroyed, I thought a few weeks of intense work could increase my fitness enough to compete.

You guessed it; I got injured again with a strained tendon near my ankle. Heavy sigh. “W-e-l-l” (sounding like Ronald Reagan), there goes Nationals.

All of a sudden, it occurred to me. “Track” is really track AND field. I could do a field event. In high school I triple jumped. Unfortunately, I can’t jump as far now and may not be able to reach the sand pit. The notion of landing on the runway, in spikes, and breaking both legs didn’t sound too good.

I can’t hurdle or shot put. Scratch those from the list.

Sprinting. Definitely not. That’s how I got into trouble in the first place.

Pole vault. I could learn to pole vault. How hard can it be? I’m not talking 18 feet, just 7 or 8 feet. I contacted a local pole vault club and they invited me to try. Unfortunately it was too late to train for the meet. We’ll put pole vaulting on the back burner for now.

Long jump. I never really could do this well. My “hop and skip” in the triple jump was much better than my jump. However, as bad as I am, it would at least get me in the meet. I started practicing. I even made 12 feet and I wasn’t expecting to go 10 feet. With a longer approach run, a bit more speed, I could make 13 feet.

You guessed it; I tweaked a hamstring (just a little).

High jump. Ugh. I learned how to do the old “forward roll” over the bar in high school, but three years ago, when I tried it again, I only managed to clear 3 feet 10 inches. Some of the competitors soar well above 5 feet and some are close to 6 feet. Not clearing the opening height would be pretty bad. Just as gloom struck, I checked the meet information. The opening height is 2 feet, 9 inches. TWO FEET, NINE FREAKING INCHES. SIGN ME UP BABY!

My son’s school track coach agreed to give me a lesson. No forward roll for this athlete, I’m going to learn how to do the “Fosbury flop,”*** where you go over backwards. On my third week of practice, I cleared 4 feet 4 inches. It would have put me in 6th place last year (admittedly, a lean year at the meet) and scored a point for my team. A quick sip of water, a chat with the coach for a couple minutes and I was ready to try for 4 feet 6 inches.

You guessed it. My approach wasn’t very good and I hit the bar. The bar landed on the mat and I landed on the bar. Oh crap. I felt a sharp pain in my rib cage after landing on the bar. I haven’t had it X-rayed but am pretty sure I broke a rib (the crack in the rib is palpable). The first week was pretty tough but Ibuprofen, Tylenol and menthol pain patches helped a lot. I didn’t get shortness of breath and it has improved enough for me to spin on the bike and jog slowly on the treadmill. Sneezing still hurts, but the one advantage of a really cold winter is no pollen. At least I can laugh about it now without wincing too much.

W-e-l-l” (more Ronald Reagan), there goes Nationals.

I’ve decided to volunteer at the meet and cheer on my healthier team-mates. It’ll be fun. And safer. Besides, I did set personal bests for the two jumps. Once the rib heals up, it’s back to my old training style. Running in the back of the back in a track meet is better than not running at all.

Though I wonder…How hard can pole vaulting be?

Richard Galgano, D.O.

March 1, 2014

* Mass Velocity, https://sites.google.com/site/massvelocitytrackclub/

** William Henry Rodgers, Famed marathoner and Olympian http://www.runningpast.com/rodgers.htm

*** Fosbury Flop, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Id4W6VA0uLc