Pace
Pace. That was the key. If a good pace was kept up then he would be able to reach the finishing line. He told himself that he would not ever stop rather he would simply slow to a walk if he require a rest. As his tail moved from side-to-side he was glad of it being a good day for the marathon. He was sweating in the thick coat. He looked at the orange fur of his body and sighed. He was given the impetus to break into a run as a man dressed as a cigarette passed him. They must have been working for the NHS promoting non-smoking. As the cigarette-man passed him he slowed to a walk once more.
"Why," he asked himself, "why did I have to run dressed as a cat. Why when there were plenty of other cooler choices in that costume shop!"
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