By Cory Lancaster
Published in The Orlando Sentinel - Wednesday, February 3, 1999

By noon, Greg Edge had gnawed his fingernails to the quick. His palms were sweaty. He was giddy from lack of sleep.

Hours before what would be the first roller coaster ride of his life, Edge, 41, made the mistake of watching footage of the steel giant he was about to be strapped into _ a spiraling monster that rockets riders to 40 miles an hour in three seconds, flipping them upside down several times.

``I haven't slept since I saw it, and I've got goose bumps about an inch and a half high,'' said the Miami resident, one of 14 self-described ``coasterphobics'' who signed up for a theme park therapy session to fight their fears. ``I've never done it, and I'm scared.''

Edge is not a timid man. A chef on an oil rig, he rides a helicopter to work and scuba dives for fun.

But when it comes to amusement parks, he won't even board the kiddie coaster despite the merciless taunting of his friends.

``I'm tired of sitting on the bench at the bottom, holding the purses and cameras,'' he said. ``My friends are gone for two hours, and I miss all the fun.''

That's something the designers at Universal Studios Escape thought about as they saw the steel framework of their coasters getting taller. Although coasters come with their own fan clubs and are credited with being a major draw for parks, they have the power to paralyze.

``When we started to see them, we realized there's going to be a whole lot of folks who are intimidated,'' said Phil Hettema, leader of the design team for Universal's new Islands of Adventure theme park, which will have Central Florida's first two high-speed coasters. ``There's a healthy section of the population that's going to see these and take pause.''

The people who sheepishly hold the pocketbooks and the coats. The bench warmers. The coaster chickens. The white-knuckled, weak-kneed wimps who are looked upon with pity by those waiting in line.

They have gathered at the foot of the Incredible Hulk Coaster to gaze up at the shiny, twisting green contraption that rises to 110-feet in some places and sends cars screaming around corners at up to 60 miles an hour. It's based on the comic book featuring mild-mannered scientist Bruce Banner, who after an exposure to gamma rays is transformed into the savage green Hulk whenever he gets angry.

And it's enough to frighten the phobics.

``I'm one of the petrified people,'' said Kathy Figueroa, 53, of Orlando, fidgeting with the straps on her pocketbook. ``I hate to always be the party pooper, but I'm scared.''

Figueroa and the other faint of heart were selected to participate in what Universal bills as the first-ever stress-management course for people too afraid to get on stomach-churning thrill rides.

Until now, the only serious roller coasters in the area were at Busch Gardens in Tampa. Coasterphobics have had little to fear in Central Florida, where Disney's relatively tame Space Mountain was as scary as it got. Disney also is getting into the high-speed act this summer, opening Rock `n' Roller Coaster at Disney-MGM Studios.

The public can start getting on board Universal's new coasters this spring, during a soft opening of the park before this summer's official grand opening.

To prepare employees, and to get a little publicity, Universal sent out a call for coaster wimps. Two psychologists commissioned by the theme park picked the winning scaredy-cats from letters sent in by a thousand hopeful riders from all over the United States.

Nearly all of those selected by the psychologists are terrified of the twists and leery of the speed, but many of them live with a coaster fanatic.

``A lot of people saw it as they were being left out of the family fun,'' said psychologist Brian Newmark.

That includes Figueroa.

``Only for your kid would you do something that you're terrified of,'' said Figueroa. Her son Victor, a high school junior, is such a big coaster fan he wants a job designing the devices.

So how do you get the fearful to join the ranks of the fearless? Newmark and Michael Otto, a Harvard Medical School associate professor of psychology, believe they've found the answer.

Last week they put their theory to the test, using the coasterpho-bics as guinea pigs. A dozen Universal employees went along for the ride so they'll know how to spot the coaster-challenged and turn them into riders. Universal even set up a trailer near one of the coasters where employees can take reluctant riders and counsel them.

It's a mix of regression therapy with a whole lot of primal screaming:

First, the docs told the coasterphobics, it's important to understand that it only looks like you're going to die. Coasters give the illusion of danger, but it's just that, an illusion, Newmark said.

``It's like a haunted house,'' Newmark said. ``Most adults aren't frightened because they know it's not real. It's the illusion of danger that provides the thrill.''

Second, ignore your rapidly beating heart, those sweaty hands, the butterflies in your stomach and that little voice inside whispering that the car is going to careen off the track.

That's just anxiety talking, and you shouldn't be listening, Otto said.

Third, you have to learn how to appreciate the sensations that roller coasters create. The dizziness, the speed, the momentary near-weightlessness.

To induce dizziness, Otto has the coasterphobics close their eyes and roll their heads. He reminded them that, as kids, many of them spun around the yard until they got so dizzy they collapsed.

``That was your first thrill ride, there in your front yard,'' Otto said. ``And some of you paid good money in college beer halls to get this same sensation.''

The coasterphobics are enthusiastic. After all, they got a free trip to a new theme park. But they're still mistrustful.

``Everything we've done so far is OK, but I can control it,'' Edge said. ``Once we get on that coaster, I won't be able to control it and that's scary.''

And that's the fourth and most important lesson, Otto said. Once you're on the coaster the only thing you can control is your response. You can't steer the coaster no matter how tight you grip the bar. And you can't stop it by pressing your feet to the floor like there's a brake pedal.

``You've just got to say `This feels weird, but I'm not going to do anything with it,' '' Otto said. ``Just let go.''

After a few dizzy spells and a couple of practice screams -- essential for releasing tension -- the class watched a video of the green coaster in action and prepared to ride.

For additional support, Universal paired each coasterphobic with an enthusiast _ a roller coaster-obsessed rider. At the queue line, a visibly nervous Renee Berkowitz, 43, has a death grip on Andre Castaldi's forearm.

``I'm telling her not to panic,'' said Castaldi, 68, a Jupiter resident who has been riding roller coasters for 60 years.

The green plastic harnesses -- which look similar to what holds kids in car seats, only thicker -- lift automatically, and the coasterphobics climb aboard, grasping the handles with their hands. They offer weak smiles, but as the car starts, several bravely give a thumbs up.

And then they're off. Within 3 seconds, the riders are catapulted up an incline and shoot out of a tunnel at 40 miles an hour _ the force of which, Universal says, is comparable to the launch of an F-16 jet from an aircraft carrier.

Riders immediately are sent into a roll that turns them upside down more than 110-feet above ground.

They have remembered the doctors' advice to scream.

In 2 minutes and 15 seconds, it's all over, and the car coasts back to the starting point. The coasterphobics are all smiles, except for a shaken Berkowitz, who needs a bit of coaxing to remove her hands from the bars.

Elsewhere, there is exultation.

``We've got a convert here,'' boasts coaster enthusiast Scott McGrath of Boca Raton, who sat with Orlando resident Janet Sutton.

``When my heart stops beating so fast I think I want to get on again,'' a beaming Sutton said.

To the doctors' delight, she is not alone. More than half of the formerly fearful lined up for another shot at the Hulk.

The sight made Newmark beam.

``We couldn't have asked for more.''