The "What Was I Thinking?" 18th Birthday Mud-Run

The Promise
They say you should never make promises to your children while sleep-deprived or under the influence of extreme sentimentality. Yet, here we are. My son is turning 18 this year—an age of maturity, independence, and apparently, the desire to see his 46-year-old mother face-plant into a pit of "Electroshock Therapy."

The Reality Check
I promised him I’d join him for Tough Mudder one last time. At the time, it sounded like a lovely bonding experience. Now that the date is approaching, I’ve realised that "bonding" in this context mostly involves me questioning my life choices while covered in Manchester's finest sludge.

I did suggest that as a strong, young 18-year-old, he should simply carry me across the finish line like a sack of organic potatoes. He seems less than convinced by this plan.

The "Why" (The Important Bit)
While we are busy risking our dignity and our hamstrings, we are doing it for a cause very close to our hearts: Little Hiccups.

As many of you know, Little Hiccups supports families in Leeds who have children with additional needs or disabilities. They provide the kind of support and fun that keeps families going when things get tough. We want to make sure they can keep providing those vital opportunities, even if it means I have to scale a 10-foot wall to prove a point.

The Goal

• Him: To finish the race without his mum embarrassing him too much.
• Me: To survive.
• Us: To raise as much as possible for the amazing families at Little Hiccups.

If you’ve ever wanted to pay to see me voluntarily undergo physical torture again for a good cause, now is your golden opportunity! Every penny goes directly to the charity and keeps me motivated when I’m eyeing up the nearest exit.