Running seems to be the national disease. We’ve had the OX5 Run in March when more than 1,000 runners, lashed by wind and rain, finished the five-mile course at Blenheim Palace to raise money for the Oxford Children’s Hospital.

Last month there was the London Marathon, with 36,500 people raising around £50m for charities, and the bonanza season concludes in October with the Oxford Half Marathon and the Abingdon Marathon. This is big charity business, but is it big fun? Why do people do it?

Sir Christopher Ball was a very sensible and sedentary Warden of Keble College who didn’t even like running. When he retired from Oxford University he got the bug and ran circles around younger competitors.

Richard Pring, Emeritus professor of Education at Oxford University, is another late starter and he’s now run more than 25 marathons all over the world.

Nikki Poole heads up one of the oldest law firms in the country – Hedges – in Beaumont Street. She had a serious illness and was given a week to live. Fortunately doctors caught their misdiagnosis in time. She recovered and has run the London, New York and Boston marathons.

Ryan from the checkout counter of Headington Waitrose is doing triathlon, Iron Man and marathon stuff in between his course at Oxford Brookes University and his part-time job.

I admire them all, but I don’t get it. Why do they willingly undergo such a ritualised form of training and punishment?

Christopher Brasher, the man behind staging a marathon in London caught the flavour of why people do it when he returned from running the New York Marathon in 1979 and wrote an article entitled ‘World’s Most Human Race’. “For the more than 10,000 of us who finished, it was a greater personal victory over doubt and fear, body and mind; and for most of us, we won only because 2.5 million New Yorkers came out of their homes and holes to feed and water us, to make music and brotherly love and to be Good Samaritans to all who felt like dropping by the wayside.

“Last Sunday millions of us saw a vision of the human race, happy and united, willing their fellow human beings to a pointless but wonderful victory over mental doubt and bodily frailty.”

Maybe there is something about a marathon that brings out the sublime. It’s an individual effort that also relies on enormous help from others.

Take the anniversary on Wednesday of Sir Roger Bannister breaking the four-minute mile in Oxford with the help of Chris Brasher and Chris Chataway doing the pacing. I was talking to Lady Moira Bannister about the event a few weeks ago and she recalled the press coverage with raised eyebrows. “But when one journalist called them ‘The Three Musketeers’, I didn’t mind that.”

There is also something sublimely ridiculous about running the marathon. Jim White – Oxford writer, broadcaster and coach of the Summertown Stars youth football team – signed up for the London Marathon and went to the Excel Centre in Docklands to collect his race number and timing chip.

“In the vast exhibition space I was confronted with the most terrifying spectacle known to a marathon participant: hundreds upon hundreds of other entrants to the great public race all going about the business of collecting their numbers,” he said. “To a man, woman and back half of a pantomime camel they looked far fitter, healthier and more prepared then me.

“Sure, I came away clutching a goodie bag filled with sponsors’ gifts (which, oddly, did not contain a list of orthopaedic surgeons offering a discount on my consequent knee replacement operation). But I also left more convinced than ever that signing up for the race was one of the great errors of my life. What was I doing thinking that I could run alongside (or more probably behind) these people? These are not human beings. They are running machines.”

But there is a comparison here with a fundraising dance competition I was involved with judging at the New Theatre on April 25 called Strictly Oxford, which involved 15 local celebrities stepping out of their comfort zone. Here are some of the competitors’ comments on the day after. Thames Valley Police Superintendent Christian Bunt who won the competition said: “What an amazing experience. I can’t believe it is all over. It has been the most nerve-wracking but enjoyable experience ever. I am feeling quite down about the fact we won’t be getting together to dance this week.”

Lawyer Nikki Poole again: “I do have to say that I am not sad, flat or in mourning as I really don’t think I have ever felt fear like Saturday night and the relief that I never ever have to do that again far outweighs anything else. I won’t be dancing again, although I may break into an exuberant jive at the next wedding.”

David Richmond, clerk to the Oxford Magistrates: “Being part of this incredible event has been one of the best experiences of my life on many levels. On the night, speaking for myself, I knew I made the right steps but not necessarily in the right order – and that did not really matter. It was clear from the reaction we could all hear that the audience had a fantastic time, we were all buzzing with excitement and more importantly we made plenty of cash for Vale House Care Home.”