March 6th

Scooby Doo, Dumbo the Elephant, Mr Tickle, Mr Bump and an eight foot Giraffe all managed to cross the finishing line of the London Marathon last year.
I, like everyone else, have stood there by the side of the road wondering what possesses these people not only to enter the race in the first place but to then decide to do it disguised as a big furry animal.
Are they not satisfied with just completing the bleedin thing? Are they looking for a bigger challenge? Is it showing off? Or are these people just uneasy on the eye and need a comic way of covering up a big hairy facial mole or varicose veins?
Anyhow, after doing the Watford half marathon I think I know now why they do it.
Before the race on February 3 Watford Town Hall reeked. The Deep Heat and the Vaseline were flowing. There were serious athletes everywhere, all dressed up in their running club’s colours rubbing themselves up all over the place and stretching muscles I don’t even have. Their warm ups looked more tiring than one of my training runs.
I have got nothing against these serious runners, they are just scary company to keep when you are only worried about getting across the finish line and they are talking about personal bests or ‘PBs’ as they say.
I think Scooby and Scrappy Doo are a rejection of this world of serious running and I am now thinking of going down the fancy dress route myself.
But if I do I will give myself a major training headache. I can’t go to the gym dressed as Yogi Bear. Can you imagine Yogi walking past security at the gym going off to pound the treadmill next to Jude Law and Liam Gallagher? (They use the same gym)
I can’t follow my normal run around Hampstead Heath dressed as Zippy from Rainbow. (Maybe George wouldn’t go down too badly in some parts).
I would have to consign myself to training in the middle of the night in my own living room.
I also want to know where these other characters do their training. They can’t just follow a normal schedule like everyone else and then wake up on the morning of the marathon and get into costume. I’m not having that. There must be some secret club out there in the darker parts of London, maybe underneath a railway arch, where they all meet up to exercise.