Mark Henderson Adds I first read about the Wickham Park 50 (UR, Sept. 1999) appropriately on the reading throne, and thought, "Man, I've got to have some of that." Some months later, I announced this to several ultrafriends in hopes of recruiting commiserates; although the recruiting proved futile, having gone public, I was committed. Then Matt threw on an extra 50 for good measure. Of course, wherever there is more than one option for an event, I will choose the most extreme-it's my nature. Not knowing exactly what I would meet at Wickham, my approach for this run was three-fold: (1) run lots-and as much as possible in the hottest parts of the day, (2) always choose the "path less followed," (e.g., brush, swamp, knarl, the rough, etc.), and (3) develop an attitude. Although I trained with all three in mind, through an unfortunate twist of events, I must confess that for the most part, I lost the attitude prior to showing up on day 1. Chris Hudson, a colleague and friend from Houston, and I showed up at Wickham Park on Sat. (after 1,000+ miles in the Earth Pig) to assist in the course markings. We met Eric Robinson from Oakland but never hooked up with RD Matt Mahoney's course marking. We ended up taking an orienteering lap on the easy section. The 1st things I noticed were the sand traps-two particularly long sand traps which I guesstimate on the order of 800+ meters. Walking caused the heart to pound and running seemed futile. The second thing I noticed was how much-despite course markings and maps-all the "1,085 critical turns and intersections" appeared alike. It finally made sense why it was so easy to get lost in a 1-square mi. park. On Sunday a.m., I was staying at a different house than Chris, and I got lost en route. By the time I called, I was an hour south of Chris and nearly the same from the race. Chris told me to go on and win it. Begrudgingly and tearfully, I turned the Earth Pig towards Wickham, feeling every bit as wrong as leaving one of your troops behind. I made it 5 minutes before the start and hit the head surfacing to start an "orienteering lap" behind Matt. Matt and I were the only ones wearing sandals. Because Matt had duct taped his knuckles, he was also the only one to end in sandals. I will also say that Matt's course markings (given the limitations of the terrain and fauna) were excellent. Over the next 2 days, I only got lost three times, all fairly brief. My plan the first day was to take it easy to save something for day 2. Naturally, plans formulated under some semblance of reason can get in the way of bravado in the heat of battle and I somehow calculated about halfway that I had a chance at the record--not the brightest idea I've had. Of course, I made this decision during the hottest part of the day-and it was hot, even by Houston standards. I was fortunate enough to hold together and come in under the Adam Bookspan's time; however, I would pay quite a toll for this foolish move. After the 50, even though I cooled in the pond and replenished with food and fluids, I was having a helluva time staying awake, much less coherent. Collective opinion was that I should sleep in the park, but I was ill prepared. I power napped, then with the aid of two naps along the way, made it north of Titusville to the Schultz' home where I showered and slept, forgetting to eat a meal. I was wracked with charlie horses for several hours despite my intake of what I thought a sufficient number of salt tabs during the run. Finally getting to sleep, I was hurled from bed by the sonic boom of the Space Shuttle orbiter on her way home to KSC. The poetic injustice of it all is that I work on the Orbiter Project in Houston! The next day, I had to be coerced out of bed. I got ready and decided to make a "social appearance" at Wickham. This time, I was able to pick up my mate (who had killed a wild boar with a knife in the Saw Palmetto scrub of Merritt Island on Sun.) and we arrived at Wickham Park. I wish I could say that I went there with the 2nd half of my attitude and tore up the course; but, that would be, in an abstract, a lie. Eric, Matt, and I, looking and feeling our finest (barf) took off on a walk that later turned into a saunter and quasi-trot. From then on, for me, it was a mind game. I convinced myself that I would only do a couple laps and punch out gracefully; then I decided to do the marathon; then I attempted to reason with Matt that I was too far beyond the time limit and couldn't make it, so I should save my energy for my 1,000 mile drive home.Matt wouldn't listen to reason, so I got pissed, slapped on some tunes and headed for 100. We were blessed for a short spell with some cloud cover, but my last laps got progressively faster and were all in the heat-I was just determined to get this *$#@%!! over with as quickly as possible. Mike Dobies and Sue Johnson returned to see if any idiots were still on the course and found, naturally, me. It was nice to finish with friends around. A bit about the course: The most difficult factor of this year's course (I believe the terrain is changed by fires and fire control from year to year) was the sand. There is no easy way to motivate yourself through this stuff without losing a lot of energy. Furthermore, the 2nd big sand trap was lined with thick palmetto scrub keeping any breeze out, and it was shaped like a big trough of white sand which gave the added benefit of a never-ending concave lens focusing all its light/heat on you. To wit, the bottoms of my calves got sunburned. Of course, the other difficulty factor is what many consider dangerous heat indices; but then again, there are a lot of ultras around the country which would be classified by most as dangerous. However, the challenging combination of intense heat indices, deep sand, and nasty brush combine to offer an adversary equal to those of other environmental extremes such as cold, altitude, and elevation changes. My hat goes off to all those who attempted this course-especially to Mike, Sue, and Eric who hail from climates so different than those of Melbourne and Houston; and, to Pat Dixon for traversing 65 miles by her 65th birthday. Happy Birthday, sweetheart! Thanx Matt for a "fun run;" next year, let's all plan to stay a little extra and let Chris roast a wild boar for an authentic Floridian touch.