Tough Mudder: In which I sign up for yet another absurd exercise-based activity


“I’m sorry Kat, but I am only qualified to advise you on the Antarctic Enema”

Hello! Yes, it has been a while hasn’t it? Everything okay? Smashing. I’ve signed up to do Tough Mudder London West on April 30, hahaha, how about you oh God. Clearly a 12-mile obstacle course with obstacles named stuff like “ARCTIC ENEMA” and “BOA CONSTRICTOR” and other things best kept at Thorpe Park is a terrific plan.

In case you’re thinking this is yet another example of New Year’s-based idiocy from some dickhead on the internet you’ve never met, no! I signed up for this thing in October. My actual hangover-induced New Year’s fuck-ups include buying a juicer (don’t need one!) and diet book about turbo-charged onions (The Sirt Diet! Yes, that insane thing being advertised at Oval station that looks like something someone made up while drunk at Ikea. Both inspired from an implausibly glossy article in The Times this morning, and which reads like an extremely extended “This one little tip” article, only with added celebrity endorsements and worse abuse of “incredible!”. I will report back on how it goes, for example,  if I have lost 7lbs in a week, or just the £29.99 I’ve just spent on a juicer from Ocado.)

In October I was visiting H’s godmother,  along with him and his Rat Pack of incredibly healthy and mercifully brilliant fellow godchildren. “I need motivation in my life,” I thought, gazing misty-eyed at them through the best part of a bottle of Malbec. “All these people are really healthy and want to do a Tough Mudder, including the one who is in the Army. I should  do one as well! Then I could be in an army of Kat Brown success.” In case it is not clear,  I was quite drunk at this point, but feel free to create your own army of success or join mine.

By the time I’d paid the eye watering joining fee, I was sober, and wild eyed with anticipation at how fit and successful I would be by the time April came around, having conveniently forgotten that, while I could run for nearly six hours by the time I did the London Marathon, I felt absolutely neither of those things and had almost lost the ability to see. But blind optimism is a powerful thing, as is wine drunk in beautiful settings in Kent near an extremely large tabby cat called Leonardo.

Predictably, I have spent the last two months frittering away time when I could be exercising and becoming “powerful” and “in charge of my best self” in a state of panic, and muting the godchildren What’s App group in which everyone talks about their regimens and general doing of stuff. But it’s time to unmute the group now. For one,  I have a juicer. For two, it’s  January, and I’ve got fuck all else to be doing now that I’ve seen all of Jessica Jones and nearly caught up with Luther.

And, actually, I do want a challenge. I got married in July – to H, architect of all my London Marathon joy, and the greatest man who ever lived and who is not The Rock – and went to the gym a lot in the run up to it. But I didn’t enjoy the gym because I knew that not looking shit in a dress was a horrible reason for me doing exercise. The insane Marathon training taught me that the best reason for it is because it makes my mind happier, and I feel like I am achieving something wonderful and weird, that doesn’t come easily. And this time, I’d like to do a challenge with other people, rather than on my own.

I am going to ignore the memory of lying in a bath full of Epsom salts post-run two years ago and going “Aaargh” and “But why?” as H read out the list of obstacles one encounters in a Tough Mudder race. How annoying can ice water and electrification be, really? My future best self will be immune to both.

A Totally Non-Inspirational Post About Running The London Marathon

People who do the Marathon more than once often say they want to get a personal best, beat a certain time, or that they didn’t give it their all the first time round. I can, with absolute certainty, say that I couldn’t have given it anything more, I’m thrilled with my time, and I have no regrets.

On Sunday, I tweeted and texted my way around the London Marathon, and as God is my witness I’LL NEVER GO MARATHONING AGAIN.


Will I be running another one? God, NO. No. Right. Now that’s over, are we ready for an inspirational post about marathons? Then let’s begin. Continue reading

Full-Size Snickers Training! Week 15: The Blerch


Completely forgot to post this earlier in the week – my mind has been all over the place with work events and eating like it’s going out of fashion. Post! And one to come before Sunday. Hopefully. Dear lord it’s so close!


I arrived at choir last week clutching a large glass of red – sorry Lent, we’re very much over now – and a friend said hello.

“I read your blog,” she said. “It was really funny! And the McDonald’s. But I can’t believe you actually admitted that in public.”

I said something blasé about my terrible diet at the moment, and eating everything, but it stuck with me. My eating has been appalling for the last few weeks. At the same time, I have entirely failed to get the hang of tapering, and my running has crashed to a halt of a Sunday long run, and that’s it. I saw some pictures from the Richmond half and I look even more like the tragic jelly shoved into a sock and violently beaten that I was at Marrowthon.

Reader: this is not good. Continue reading



I was having a bit of a lame day today in terms of nerves and food and so on – this has filled me with complete joy. Read this for why supporting Mind is a brilliant thing. Thank you so much for helping me to smash my target, and for being general legends. xxx

Full-Size Snickers Training! Week 14: Tapering Hell, Bra Hell


I’m in Women’s Running magazine! Thanks to @filmcharlotte for the heads up.

That picture has had some brilliant advert uses. When I was on holiday in February, it turned up on Facebook. It’s a bit weird seeing myself there – you don’t get asked, but then I haven’t asked when I’m using it  – but it is a great photo and entirely sums up how I intend to feel on marathon day.

ANYWAY. Still tapering. Taper taper taper. I treated myself to a lovely massage on Wednesday to pull my back into some semblance of order. For various reasons, I only went out once this week, which was on Mothering Sunday from my parents’ house. 8am start = 7am start. I had to pull half the underwiring out of my sports bra – auspicious start! This also means that I now have no sports bras with all their underwiring in. Is it too late to get another one and wear that in? What if it rips my chest to bits, even with Vaseline? Continue reading

Full-Size Snickers Training! Week 13: Richmond 13.1

This is LOVELY - fabulous nail art for a girl in the Facebook running group. I'm so getting something like this for London.

This is LOVELY – fabulous nail art for a girl in the Facebook running group. I’m so getting something like this for London.

After last time’s horrendous 20 miles, I spent a week in recovery, hiding under my bed and staring blankly at a scratch on my chest of drawers. Or at least I may as well have. We’re now in tapering mode, and everyone in my Facebook group has gone mad.

Allegedly, tapering is what you do to relax and restore your muscles to gleaming health in time for Stupid Run Race Day. Really, what happens is everyone starts FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. Continue reading

Full-Size Snickers Training! Week 12: Thank You Katy Perry, from #43265

photo (6)

My feelings towards Ms Perry, neatly summed up in my amazing “Domestic Sluttery is 5” present from Sian

On my fundraising page, I say there’s a 75% chance of me crying. I’m raising that to 100%, simply because if I haven’t been asleep, eating, or running this week, I’ve been sobbing like Violet Elizabeth Bott confronted with an ingallant Outlaw. Continue reading

Marrowthon! Running with Empire for Anthony Nolan

Team Empire! Aka, The Running Mag *ahthangyor*

Team Empire! Aka, The Running Mag *ahthangyor*

On Sunday, under the most beautifully Spring-like baby blue skies I’ve seen without dreaming them, me and a team from Empire magazine ran the Marrowthon 10k for Anthony Nolan, the blood cancer and bone marrow registry charity. £1380 raised so far, HOLLER!

I left Empire in 2006, but help out* at the Awards, and it doesn’t take much for me to do a race with Helen and Olly “Is there a medal?” Richards. I named our team: the frankly horrifying The Running Mag. I am so sorry. (I am not at all sorry).

*drink their booze

Continue reading

Full-Size Snickers Training! Weeks 6-9: Tina Fey Makes Everything Awesome

I googled "orchestra conducted by bears" and now we may never sleep again

I googled “orchestra conducted by bears” and now we may never sleep again

Prepare to be underwhelmed on an as-yet undefined scale of shodditude. I’m wildly behind. Wildly.

But you can also be prepared for a cheering inspirational last act, probably with the swell of a really well-packed orchestra behind it, so you know – bear with me. Ready? Ok. Continue reading