EXTREME THEATRE.("Voyage," "Shipwreck," "Salvage")

The Web site for the New York City Marathon lists the following tips: invest in good running shoes and lightweight clothing; consume plenty of fluids; pace yourself. When Henry Bergstein showed up at Lincoln Center on the morning of February 24th, for a different sort of marathon--nine hours of "The Coast of Utopia," Tom Stoppard's epic drama about a circle of nineteenth-century Russian intellectuals--he had made only one preparation. "I wore special underwear," he said. "It's antibacterial underwear that has special breathing ability."

It was twenty minutes to eleven, and Bergstein was about to settle into seat H207 at the Vivian Beaumont. Though the three parts of the trilogy--"Voyage," "Shipwreck," and "Salvage"--had been running in repertory, this was the first of several days on which all three could be seen in one sitting. In anticipation of only three intermissions and two meal breaks, many of the thousand and fifty souls who braved the performance had taken precautions against all sorts of potential difficulties, including hunger, drowsiness, bad breath, and lack of familiarity with the central characters (who include Alexander Herzen, Michael Bakunin, and Vissarion Belinsky) and the women who dote, cheat, and die on them.

Outside the theatre, Gail Perlman (seat G109) and her sister-in-law, Carol Perlman (G108), were waiting for Carol's husband, Al, and their two children, Michael and Sharon. They were excited, like climbers at the foot of Mt. Kilimanjaro.

"We love theatre," said one.

"We love theatre," said the other.

"We have a passion for theatre."

The family arrived, along with their friend Michael DiPitro (G110), who was toting a large black bag. "We've got energy bars, candy, fruit, yogurt, breath mints, cough drops, gum, toothpaste, aspirin, sunglasses," he said. "I got tissues. I got hand gel. I got eyedrops in case my eyes get tired. I got cologne in case the people behind us stink. I got floss. I got cinnamon toast."