Chasing a world record dressed as a giant panda could be oddly liberating
This Sunday, alongside a three-person sausage dog, an ironing board and a tube of toothpaste, I will be one of 95 people attempting to break a world record at the London marathon. My own attempt is for the coveted title of “fastest marathon in a full body animal costume (female)”. If you see a giant panda lolloping down the Mall, that will be me.
Why am I doing this? It’s a question I often ask myself, mostly when sweltering inside a giant fluffy black and white head. Partly to raise money for the World Wildlife Foundation, partly to prove a point. Earlier this year some running friends were talking about doing an “inflatable 5km” – essentially a parkrun with bouncy castles – when someone said: “Oh, you won’t be up for it, Kate, you take your running way too seriously.” That stung a little. Twentyfour hours later I had submitted my application.
Guinness cannot provide places at the London marathon, so all the record chasers already have a qualifying, ballot or charity place. The process of converting that to a record attempt is oddly bureaucratic – you submit multiple pic
tures online of the costume, making sure it meets a long and strict list of criteria. My first panda head was rejected because it didn’t cover my whole face; the sausage dog was told her legs were too short. An animal could take this sort of thing personally.
There are rules during the race itself, too. Those attempting a record are allowed to remove any part of their costume to consume on-course drinks and fuel. However, they must not move an inch if they do, as the full 26.2 miles has to be covered in character. Guinness has spotters all along the course to verify records, alongside the data provided by race cameras and chip times.
I’ve done a few trial runs, with mixed results. One problem is that while I look like I panda, my suit gives me the tunnel-vision of a rhino. Crossing roads is a bit iffy, potholes potentially lethal and direct sunlight a nightmare. Who knows what could happen in a throng of 40,000 people?
Yet the reaction from passers-by has been mostly fantastic. Small children point and wave, though some do hide in terror. Last week a little girl, prompted “Look darling! What animal is that?” by her mother, announced solemnly: “CAT-ER-PILLAR.” Adults either pretend, in a terribly British way, that there’s nothing to see here, move along, or ask to take a selfie with you (standard response: “Sure, as long as it’s in black and white”). My own kids are torn between pride and mortification – my 10-year-old thinks it is brilliant, as long as I don’t actually stand anywhere near her.
“You’d better not overtake me!” is a common refrain – or “God, that’s embarrassing” by a lady I did overtake https://www.justgiving.com/ fundraising /lovethepandas