2007 Wickham Park Marathon - Camp Slayer Edition Race report by Mark Jackson, W. Melbourne FL The first and only running of the Wickham Park Marathon - Camp Slayer Edition is officially complete. We had one runner registered (me) and one runner showed up on race day (also me). The course was simple, if not repetitive, but what can you do, it's Baghdad. It was a scenic tour of Camp Slayer, possibly the nicest compound on the Victory Base Complex that surrounds the Baghdad International Airport. The camp was once one of Sadaam's palace complexes. There are two massive lakes filled with monstrous carp and hybrid bass. Ringing the lakes and situated on islands throughout are the marble and sandstone villas of Ba'ath party officials, once rewards for loyalty, now they are the offices and living quarters of the soldiers and civilians who are a part of the war effort. Down the street from my hooch is the massive edifice of the Perfume Palace, topped by a green dome, where Sadaam's harem once lived. Across the southern lake is what would have been Sadaam's largest palace, the 'Victory Over America Palace', still ringed by construction cranes, halted by the US invasion. Its incomplete walls rise 100 feet above the lake. On Flintstone Avenue there is a gigantic playground constructed to look like a cave - think Tom Sawyer's island at Disneyworld, Iraqi-style - and built for Sadaam's many children and grandchildren. There are several mosques, now disused and off-limits. And of course there are the living compounds, surrounded by 15 foot blast walls, scattered around the lakes. It is in one of these I live, on the narrow spit of land that divides the lakes in two. The run began at 0603 on 27 May 07, just as the low orange sun rose over Baghdad. The temperature was a comfortable 95 degrees at the start with zero percent humidity. Visibility was about half a mile and the air was full of fine powdered dust that had blown down from the Western Desert overnight. I began the first of 13 figure eight laps around Camp Slayer at a comfortable pace, enjoying the rising sun, feeling the rhythm of my body, and wondering why I thought it would be a good idea to try running 50 miles in Baghdad. The first four miles were uneventful and I pulled into the first aid station (my hooch) with a light coating of sweat and grit, still full of early-run enthusiasm. Also, the sun wasn't entirely up yet, it hung behind the green dome of the Perfume Palace. A slight breeze lifted across the lakes. I stretched my hamstrings, drank a little electrolyte solution, and was off again for lap number 2. My pace was quick, and purposefully so: I wanted to get as much done before the real heat of the day began. By 0800, I had run 15 miles, and hit 21 miles just before 0900. Right about that time, the heat kicked in, and the wind died down, as though the sun and the breeze had conspired to make the run as unpleasant as possible. It worked, by 0930, the air temperature was 120 degrees, the clouds of sand were gone, and the sun shone bright in the sky. I slowed down to account for the convection oven effect of the sun, the pavement, the reflected heat of the walls, and the breeze, which now had been reborn as a blast furnace. At mile 22, while running along the southern perimeter, a few gunshots rang out. The rounds whizzed above my head, flying harmlessly towards the airport. It was probably just a frustrated Baghdad denizen letting off some steam. Thankfully whoever it was had terrible aim. I laughed to myself and kept running. I was more worried about the heat. I finished the marathon at a relatively brisk (considering) 3 hours, 55 minutes, just before 1000. After another stop at the 'aid station', this time weighing in on a scale, I kept moving. The laps went slower and slower. By lap nine - a mere 36 miles in - the combination of heat and sand and misery conspired to force me to consider walking. By mile 38, it was 1300, and I had to walk. The radiant heat at the 'aid station' by lap 10 read 140 degrees. Good thing the air temperature was only 120. It was at around this point that the soles of my shoes felt like they were sticking. I thought it was delirium. As it turned out, the soles of my shoes were actually softened by the heat on the pavement. It felt like walking in chewed gum. That could have been my body dying, too. I wasn't sure. My pace was reduced to 15 minutes per mile, but I kept moving. It was 1445 and I have one lap left to go. I still had to go up Sniper Hill, as promised, to put the total mileage up over 50 miles. I staggered towards the massive manmade mound. I paused at the bottom, doused myself in water, and, given the choice between the road up and the near vertical path up the side, I opted for the latter. I figured that would make a better story. So at 48.2 miles in, I ran up the side of Sniper Hill. The sand felt like it was made of smoldering embers. The heat leaked under my sunglasses, blasting my eyes. My heart felt ready to explode. The view was spectacular. Since I had been shot at several times before when I ran up Sniper Hill, my trip down was as fast as possible. I let gravity pull my overheated, hallucinating body down the spiral road to the relative cover of the road at the base of the hill. It was nearly 1539; I had about half a mile to go. I started to run, thinking: you can't finish a run while you're walking! And I finished, at 1544 Baghdad time, just a few minutes after the real Wickham Park Marathon began. My time was 9 hours, 41 minutes, 26 seconds. The race director (my boss) met me at the finish (my hooch) and gave me the official trophy of the Wickham Park Marathon - Camp Slayer Edition, Baghdad, Iraq: an empty water bottle labeled "Wickham Park Marathon - Camp Slayer Edition, Baghdad, Iraq, 1st Place, Men's Division". I will treasure the trophy forever. Thanks to Matt Mahoney for allowing me to 'participate' in the Wickham Park Marathon. It really felt like I was home in Melbourne again, especially for those few minutes around mile 45, when I floated above my body, watched myself run, and wondered aloud: wow! Look at me go!