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  • Archive for August, 2014

    So, Imaginactive: this thing I keep talking about…

    2014 - 08.26

    I have spent the best part of the last year coaxing an idea for creating ridiculous/ly fun fitness programs to life. Whether they know it or not, many of my friends, Facebookers, bootcampers, class members and complete strangers have been acting as advisors, think tanks, brain storming parties, cheerleaders and guinea pigs throughout – so it seems only fair to share with you the story of What It Is and How It Came To Be. 

    The idea that has become my startup company Imaginactive began, as many extravagant and inadvisable ideas do, around a table in the Bear pub, Wincanton. It was Hogswatch (the Discworld equivalent of Christmas) two years ago this November, and a group of us were speculating whether we could cross Discworld with fitness to make the latter more attractive to fans of the former.

    Weekends in Wincanton: business as usual.

    Weekends in Wincanton: business as usual.

    I returned to London with A Cunning Plan: to write a proposal for Discworld audio fitness programs. From memory, there were three levels: Guards (intro to fitness), Thieves (general fitness) and Assassins (for the fitness fanatics) and it would have a been a ton of fun. I drafted the proposal, ran it past a few fellow fans and sent it off by the proffered route, and never heard back.

    I kept writing my short stories and redrafting Vandal.


    I couldn’t quite put the idea down. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that the concept of ‘audio fitness adventures’ worked far beyond the Discworld universe. I had no time to work on it directly, but my sneaky subconscious would occasionally bring it back up, chew on it and spit out some messy and illformed cud which I duly wrote down.

    In April 2013, over a coffee in Victoria with software entrepreneur Nathan Hague and his friend Claire Aberdeen, I bought audio fitness adventures (AFA) up in passing. To my great surprise, Nathan and Claire jumped on the idea.

    I was supposed to be meeting Nathan to get signed up to delivering his online personal training program, but he refused to let me get started with it, insisting I worked on AFA instead. I don’t see Nathan around these days but Claire has remained a stout and enthusiastic supporter of me and my zany ideas, for which I say: thank you Claire for believing in it before I did and in me all the way through since. I cannot stress this enough: cheerleaders matter when dreaming out of your depth.

    So I did keep working on it. Kind of. Mostly in my head and occasionally in my writing time between classes – just trying to work out how the bloody thing would work as a really good story that ‘oh yeah, by the way, has a fitness program attached to it, fancy that…’ The idea was always, at that stage, to write for reluctant exercisers – to make fitness more accessible to people who loved immersing themselves in books, TV, films, comics and games but found exercise a foreign and unforgiving country.

    Of course there were – as there always are in these major life shifts – multiple tangents converging in my head at the time. The whole Hogswatch discussion, for instance, had come out of a topic frequently run past me by friends: could I, a fitness addict and professional, make exercise more fun please?

    Now the relativity of the term ‘fun’, especially in relation to exercise, is a whole blog on its own. In brief: I’m a group exercise instructor and I find teaching and participating in group exercise classes hugely fun – as do a majority of my class members (one hopes…!). But there are loads of forms of exercise to which I am ambivalent if not allergic. I don’t love all exercise. I just exercise the hell out of the kinds I do.

    Group Ex: what's not to LOVE?!!

    Group Ex: what’s not to LOVE?!!

    In many a trip down the alternate trouser leg of time, I’d probably still be the 8kg heavier casual jogger I was before I went to Topnotch Brentford and discovered Body Combat. I jest not: my current career and physique are entirely credited to my friend Hollie taking me to a Body Pump class one Friday lunchtime with Katie Curtin, the instructor who showed me that exercise wasn’t just ‘a thing you should probably do for about a million reasons’ but ‘a really freaking awesome thing you could do for about a million reasons but really want to do because it’s also the highlight of your work day’ (at the time, in that job, entirely true).

    On the other hand, I hate things like cooking, shopping (for books and saddlery exempted) and housework. They are to me as exercise is to many of my friends. So I started listening to audio books or watching TV shows while doing those things, to make them more tolerable. They diverted me from the otherwise mundanity of the tasks as hand and engaged me intellectually and emotionally.

    So: multiple tangents converged. I was
    – mulling on this idea of narrative-based audio fitness adventures
    – frequently engaged in conversations about making exercise more enjoyable
    – trying to add personal training to my group ex work but not taking to it at all
    – and facing the very bleak economic, physical and career prospects of my current profession

    Teaching group ex is a brilliant, rewarding and seriously fun job but I was running into financial ruin and had to add personal training or something else to make rent, much less savings, pension, holidays, et cetera.

    As inevitably happens to writers, a story started assembling itself in my head. Characters popped up, unbidden. I had an over-the-top bootcamp trainer, Sergeant Hardman, taking a circuit training program called Hardman’s Army. 

    Beta tester Alda Rana's sketch of Hardman, agreed unanimously to be accurate in all ways

    Beta tester Alda Rana’s sketch of Hardman, generally agreed to be a 100% accurate depiction

    I had Agent Delta Foxtrot running missions through destroyed cities in World Apocalypse Survival. I had a holistic story taking place with a monster called Bob and – after Facebook Author Assist thread that ran to over 100 comments – a blind woman called Serenity, in a space between universes called The Shadowlands. 


    Apocalypse Survival Training In Progress! (Catalyst concept art from LETTER-Q)


    But as often also happens with writers, it was all happening in my head and on my laptop and…that was it. Oh and on Facebook Author Assists, to the general bemusement of my friends. I occasionally mentioned it to people, they nodded, and other than that, it was just A Thing I Was Thinking About.

    And then a few months after seeing Nathan and Claire, I had a coffee in Hammersmith with my then screenwriting mentor, Nicholas McInerny, and his partner Jordan Flaste, who was completing his personal training course and wanted some advice about what to do next. In the course of conversation I mentioned this audio fitness adventures thing I was thinking about, and like Nathan and Claire, they jumped on the idea too. But these two didn’t just like the idea – they wanted to help see it from my head into the real world.


    So this was both really awesome and really aaaaaargh because it now meant AFA had a chance of becoming An Actual Thing but I really wanted to go hide back in my book thank you so much. While writing a YA fantasy book is a pretty big risk, starting a whole new fitness business venture, especially one so niche, was a far, far bigger risk. Also a huge time suck and man, I was just a fitness instructor writer dude. Admittedly I was also the kind of super square who sat on committees from the age of 15 and started student TV at my uni from scratch when I was 19 – but that was all half a lifetime ago, right?


    Like anyone in the presence of the DAJR, I had an overwhelming desire to Don’t Ask, Just RUN! (Catalyst concept art from LETTER-Q)

    So I panicked a bit, ummmed and aaaahed a lot, but at some point started properly developing Hardman’s Army. 

    And then it got fun.

    Except for all the bits when I wanted to smack my head against the tables of various cafés around west London, where I would write between teaching fitness classes.

    Probably the most fun bits were the many Author Assists I ran on Facebook, where I’d get anywhere from 20 to 100+ comments from friends on subjects varying from the names of characters to how, in real life, all telecommunications in London could be knocked out. To everyone who has contributed to any of my Assists: I thank you.

    Screen Shot 2014-08-22 at 09.51.15

    60 comments?! I am constantly stunned at the obscure queries friends can actually answer…

    Now writing an audio fitness adventure poses some serious logistical problems. I mean this is a cross between a fitness workout and a story, an ongoing narrative that’s essentially a radio play with a fitness program plugged in. Every piece of dialogue has to be built around the necessity of the exercise. Every exercise has to make sense in the terms of being part of the story.

    Hardman’s Army made that relatively simple: the whole world has been recruited to the army to prepare for a coming war (the nature of which is uncovered as part of the ongoing plot). The program I’m writing now for the Kickstarter, Catalyst, is considerably more complex. But this was my first go and some days I really did wonder if I could pull this bloody thing off.

    (Ok, I still do. I also still smack my head against tables with alarming regularity).

    Other logistical issues included how to incorporate coaching into a program where the trainer is
    – a fictional construct and
    – communicating via audio only and
    – therefore can’t actually see and respond to the user and
    – cannot be seen or fed back to by the user

    Like all knotty problems and really annoying limitations, it became a creative challenge, the solution to which actually solved a number of other issues and made the finished program work far better than the earlier ‘head-desk’ drafts.

    I put out a call on Facebook asking for actors to record me a demo of Hardman. A number of people offered, and a few of those did send me a recording. I was surprised and pleased that Chris Lehr, an old friend from my first gym, long before I started instructing, messaged me to say he’d like a shot.

    Now although I couldn’t accurately define it, I had a fair feel for what I thought Hardman might sound like – and I hadn’t quite heard it by the time Chris’ demo arrived. I remember wanting to reply to him asap as I know how scary it is to send a creative offering out and then fret over how it will be received, and I had ten things to do before bed that evening, so I popped on my earphones to listen on the ride home from class.

    I will always remember that evening: 9pm, riding down Castelnau, thinking ‘nope, nope, nope, shame – WAIT!!! Yes! That! Hang on… nooooo – YES!’ and laughing my head off on my bike, in the dark and the rain, at my friend becoming my character.

    Laughing because for about one minute out of five, Chris was Hardman. Laughing because I was going to get to work with a much missed friend again. Laughing because when we met, he was a gym receptionist dreaming of acting career and I was a slightly better paid website editor dreaming of a writing career. And laughing because I had experienced that electric magic that comes from hearing words you wrote down said better than you could have hoped to hear them.

    Soon after, Jordan and I met Chris in my Hammersmith coffice for a catch up and rehearsal. We were sitting outside, but when I got to the business end of things by pulling out the script, Chris had a hunted look in his eyes: here? We wanted to rehearse here?! This, he assured us, was not possible. Bemused, we packed up and went to the nearest public space: the grounds of a church. 4pm on a Sunday, right before family service.

    at the church

    Subtle: no. Appropriate: not really. Entertaining? HELL YES.

    Chris didn’t just read as Hardman, he became Hardman, waking around, pointing, shouting, the whole drill sergeant package. The bleeped swear words and all. Jordan and I intermittently coached his accent between dissolving into fits of the giggles. I have the whole 90 mins recorded for posterity’s sake. If we make it into production, I’ll release it as a bonus some time – it’s utterly mad and brilliantly entertaining. 

    So we had our Hardman – and as he turned out to be such an exceptionally versatile voice actor, Chris ended up voicing three other characters in the Hardman’s Army beta test, along with Jordan and myself with one character each.

    chris playing hardman

    Chris playing Hardman…

    ...and not playing Hardman...

    …and not playing Hardman…

    But: I jump ahead.

    I had started routinely talking to friends about AFA a lot because I was finding this often led to good ideas, feedback and mostly importantly, people saying genuinely lovely things like ‘that is an awesome concept’ which, given the enormous amount of emotional and time investment it was sucking up, I really needed to hear. Obviously I fully believed it to be a great idea, but if the crowd don’t like your idea, your idea don’t float.

    On 6th September 2013, with the Hardman’s Army beta test script written, reviewed, re-written, rehearsed and scheduled to record with a friend of Jordan, I cautiously fell for the man who would become our audio producer and, not to put too fine a point on it, the love of my life.

    As well as working on AFA I was doing several other things as well, one of which was working on my Animal Flow coaching. Ras and I had met briefly in April and he’d sent monthly catch up suggestions since, all of which received a polite reply along the lines of ‘love to but man, my life – maybe June/July/September/you know, next year is looking good actually…’ Fortunately he was persistent and turned up, hung over and off a morning flight from Copenhagen, for me to practice teaching on.

    A man who can cope with being treated like this can cope with anything, even me...

    A man who can cope with being treated like this can cope with ANYTHING. Even, it seems, me…

    We had coffee after – not at a Starbucks, for the record – and that was the first time I realised he was an audio producer. Weeeeell said I, I’m working on this audio project, would you like to get involved…?

    Cautiously, he agreed – it was, after all, his best chance for seeing me again in under another six months – and the following week he came to rehearsal at mine with Chris and Jordan. The session was brilliant and hilarious and he was IN. Jordan, meanwhile, had a quiet word in my ear in the kitchen about not screwing up the professional relationship by screwing up a personal one because Ras was a really good sound designer and we needed him…!

    Jordan, Chris, me and Ras (and, yes, there was cake)

    Jordan, Chris, me and Ras (and, yes, there was cake, which I seem to be letting Ras eat…)

    We recorded the Hardman’s Army beta test a week or two later, although alas without Ras’ input because I had fallen in love with him just a bit too late along the schedule – for as they say, love does not run on time.

    beta rest record

    Chris hard at work as Hardman, giving attitude back to his director (moi)

    I left shortly after for a month back home in Australia and came back to start my first relationship in ten years and, not coincidentally,  the inexorable decline into my first proper burn out.

    That cost me months of progress. With the beta test was still in edit, and not much else to do until it could be released and I could find out if the concept even worked at all, I was feeling detached from the whole thing by the time I was back on my feet in February for a coffee with my writer/publishing friend Ian Whates. We met in Camden for me to sign book plates for an anthology he was publishing me in, during which Tom Hunter, director of the Arthur C Clarke Award and marketing master, and techie Colin Tate, joined us and what would you know? Turns out I had told them about AFA about several months earlier when it really was just ‘this idea I’m mulling over’ – and here in 2014 it was Becoming A Real Thing. 

    Ian, me, Colin and Tom after the boys gave me a real push forward

    Ian, me, Colin and Tom after the boys gave me a real push forward. Alas, no cake.

    After listening to me review the progress to date and throwing around a few ideas, they suggested I get in touch with a Bethnal Green Ventures, a tech startup accelerator program for socially responsible projects. I did immediately, discovering they were soon taking submissions for their summer intake.

    For the next month or so, Jordan and I really stepped up our activity as we prepared to apply for the accelerator. That process was an accelerator in itself as we suddenly had to explain our fun idea as a business concept to People With Money.

    Until that point, and prior to my burn out, I had been devoting what was once my sacred writing time almost exclusively to AFA, which meant I’d been working on it a few hours a day most days of the week, with a few meetings with Jordan and rehearsals with Chris. It had been a fairly solo process. Suddenly Jordan and I had weekly meetings, we needed to recruit more of a team, and we had Hardman’s Army coming out to release to our waiting beta test group.


    Nick, Jordan, me and Ras debriefing after meeting with Bethnal Green Ventures. THERE WAS DEFINITELY CAKE.

    Shit was getting real, man.

    We also needed to assemble more of the production team. Jordan would be marketing, I was writing and conceptualising, Ras was recording and producing, Chris and Ras’ housemate Ian were our main voice actors and that was it. BVG was a tech accelerator and although we had agreed we wanted to release our programs on an app, we didn’t even have an app developer. One of the beta test members, Nick – who I had met at an Amanda Palmer house party – came forward to help out on the tech side to my great relief, because we still had no money and sure as hell couldn’t afford to hire one.

    Meeting have always been SUPER SERIOUS (and NEVER involve cake... BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA)

    Production meetings are always SUPER SERIOUS (and ‘never’ involve cake…)

    The concept of Audio Fitness Adventures as a company that produced ongoing exercise programs started to take shape, and I drafted the first business plans, while we talked about how the app would function.

    The beta test arrived from post production. By that time I’d had a few months to really stress myself over whether the damn thing even worked. With great trepidation, I took it to the park and ran it after bootcamp one morning –

    - and finished beaming because Ras had done a great job and it was well worth the wait.

    It worked. 

    beta test worked

    EXHAUSTED ELATION: this is it.

    We meanwhile decided not to apply for Bethnal Green Ventures because the more I thought about it, and the more I consulted with people in the business, the more I realised that by fulfilling my original goal and the BVG social issue mandate by specifically targeting reluctant exercises, the more risky the whole thing was. It’s not that we were looking at a small market – it’s a huge market. It’s just also the demographic most reluctant to spent money on a fitness product.

    The unanimous opinion coming from people outside the project in technology business was: focussing on the reluctant exercise market will kill your product. Widen your demographic. Start with people who already spend money on exercise and are looking for the next fun way to do it, establish the company and product and then expand. So I still intend to go there, just after we’ve got through walking – then we will learn to run.

    So with the decision not to apply to BVG, we decided to go for crowd funding instead. I started the loooong process of learning, from scratch, how to set up and run a company, and set up and run a crowdfund.

    (Declaration: much head-desking still occurs: soooo much to learn…)

    Two of my fitness instructor friends turned out to be moonlighting accountants, and sat me down for a few hours of really scary Legal Shit. Various versions of ‘toughen up’ started to be thrown around as I arrived for meetings full of idealism, only to falter over the crushing reality of business and economics.

    There were a few really tough months early/mid this year when I felt like I was drowning in all the things I was coming to understand I didn’t understand. My production group were busy with their own lives and projects, I was getting some amazing external input which had me radically changing tact on a weekly basis, and the speed with which I was realising directions needed to shift – and the somewhat manic, increasingly unhinged ways I reported them – left some feeling left out of the process. By charging off on my own, I ended up largely working on my own. Bull, china shop, same old, same old.

    Too frequently, I broke down with fear to Ras, convinced I couldn’t do this, it would fail because of me, that I had a great idea but was going to fuck it up for everyone. One morning I actually burst into tears at bootcamp, to be hustled back to Kirstin’s flat for a fortifying coffee and counselling session with her and Cresta – two entrepreneurs who understood very well where I was and how I was feeling.

    It was a really hard, lonely period, but all the way through I was being gifted with the time and expertise of some truly incredibly people. A plea for business advice on Facebook had found me my primary business mentor, Christopher Jones, who has given me more time and help than I would ever have asked from such a busy man. He has very patiently taken me from Page 1 of Business For Dummies (’so… what’s a share again…?’) through business points of failure (me, me, me, Ras, beta test, me…) and all the reasons people won’t invest and into all the reasons people will invest and how to manage that: #MaxGratitude.

    Over phone, email and coffees, Tom Hunter very kindly let me bounce both ideas and fears about the Kickstarter – and there were loads of the latter – and was the first person to ask me to consider the failure fallback. Statistically speaking, my start up will fail. That is sucky information for someone in my position. I have no capital, no business experience, no marketing skills, no fallback beyond staying a group ex instructor whose wages completely fail to reflect the inflating economics of one of the most expensive cities in the world. But it was a good conversation to have.

    Alison, who I believe was a cunning heiress and I the plucky detective daughter of a mobster when we met, facilitated a very valuable coffee with game designer and consultant Oscar Clark, who helpfully ripped up and broke down the business and product concepts for three mind-spinning hours. This was the point where I started to realise that running year long programs as intended – we wanted to produce lifestyle fitness, not short-term accelerator fitness – was risky and made the sales model unwieldy, not to mention the production schedule terrifying. A few days later, supposedly on holiday with my parents, cruising the Thames, I was running my conversation with him through my head and had an ‘oh my GOD this is ALL WRONG!’ meltdown moment. Very classy.

    Brian, who I met as the Scarlet Pimpernel while I was a woman marauding as a man in the Cardinal’s Guard in the time of the Three Musketeers, hooked me up for a lengthy skype with DiG, an awesome guy who does everything interesting tech wise. He gave me a very generous three hours of his sunday off and again, deeply questioned the business and sales model in a way no-one closer to the project knew how to.

    Quite early on, one of my class members, KP, had Nick and I into the Facebook London offices to talk about the business structure, shares and equity, projected profits and sales.


    Facebook check in…from Facebook…FTW!

    And David Wild, a friend who met me running around in a chain mail bikini in 0 degrees on a film set last Easter – hardly a display of my more sensible professional side – surprised the hell out of me by coming forward offering advice for and investment in AFA, my beloved, now all-consuming baby.

    Totally normal attire. For 0 degrees.

    Totally normal attire. For 0 degrees.

    Shit was getting really real.

    However, Hardman’s Army was returning slow but positive results from my beta testers. Two friends pulled out of the group completely, offended by Hardman or some of the characters and dialogue, but another 20 people really enjoyed it, running it between 1 and an astonishing 13 times (high five Elina!). Repeatability proved better than expected and the whole exercise very educational and highly encouraging.

    Easter of this year, as I was boarding a plane for Nice, Jordan texted to suggest the Kickstater project be the prequel of the Hardman’s Army storyline, and over the next week of holiday, the Catalyst storyline – the program we’re Kickstarting – was born.

    While being terribly busy Doing All The Things, I’d been quietly fretting on the side about the exercise programming component of Catalyst. Will Pike, a friend from my old Gym Box personal training days, has been doing great things with his Love: Fitness business with a strong emphasis on training with intent. After reading another of his blog posts, which just perfectly resonated with my philosophical approach the mind/body side of AFA, I had a spontaneous screw it moment and just messaged him there and then, outlining what I was doing and hoping he might be interested.

    He was.
    He loved it.
    He was IN.

    I was elated. I have to build a team of people who are brilliant at what they do and will take a punt on this crazy dream of mine and so far I’ve been pretty damn lucky.

    Will referred me to Gurmukh Panesar, who has come on board as our app designer, bringing much needed experience and sound counsel to allay my gaping ignorance over what was possible, what was effective and what it would do to my Kickstarter budget…

    Nicholas, still around from that fortuitous conversation over a year ago, and a highly experienced writer of TV and radio, has been helping me develop the Catalyst universe and cast. He will be script editing me during the lead up to his marriage and co-writing with me later in the year. Again, a strong team is a team full of people better than you and as lead writer, it’s a relief and honour to have Nicholas onside.

    I contacted Daniele Quataru, a bloody brilliant artist who had also been my barista at my favourite coffice for years before his success as Letter-Q allowed him to become a full time artist. I begged Daniele to draw me some concept art sketches, and have been delighted by the work coming through.


    ‘Please may I have some people in London completely unaware there’s a monster behind them…with an iconic landmark being destroyed in the background’ – DONE! (Catalyst concept art from LETTER-Q)

    The need to prep the Kickstarter was looming ever higher on my Aaaargh Shit To Do List when Tom Hunter encouraged me to think more about how to put the crowd into the crowd funding. Crowd funding is a marvellous modern invention but we are an unknown group with an unknown product which doesn’t have a high nostalgia pull, trying to get the crowd to back our idea of what I was now calling exer-tainment – exercising while being entertained.

    Of course we’re not the first kids on the audio fitness adventures/exer-tainment block – the hugely successful Zombies, Run running program  was crowd funded a few years ago with runaway success. Like ours and many other product based kickstarters, it was a ‘presale’ campaign with some fun bonus perks. Unlike Catalyst though, Zombies was produced by a known games company and sold as a game, which our programs are not – we’re more a cross between a TV show and workout than a game and a workout.

    So Tom lead me to thinking beyond ‘crowd, fund me’ to ‘crowd, fund me and get involved!’ We are still considering to what extend the crowd can be manageably involved (in the first instance, I want to move all my Author Assists from my FB onto the backers Facebook group for their input) but it was a brilliant shift from thinking ‘how can we get enough people to fund?’ to ‘how can we get people to feel involved in what they are funding?’

    On the topic of Zombies, Run, it’s success is an absolute blessing to us because we’re working on the same concept (exercising within a story) but within a completely different context. Zombies is only a running program, and can tell stories only within the constraints of a zombie apocalypse, where my vision is for full body, and importantly, mind/body workouts. We are still working from my initial concept of a 3 stream workout program: strength circuit training, mind/body section and running.


    Also: fighting aliens. Even at Bea’s undefined age (Catalyst concept art from LETTER-Q)

    There will be fit pros who criticise AFA’s fundamental principle of diverting the brain from the body. I understand this completely. On the one hand, the entertainment part of AFA is a diversion from the exercise, which seems to suggest a mental disengagement from the body. On the other hand, cunning writing gives the exercise genuine meaning within the context of the entertainment. All the stories I’m working on put the user into a hero’s journey, which challenges them in ways requiring both physical and mental application and adaptation. The idea is to give a much deeper, not shallower, exercise experience.

    Catalyst, the first three month program and the program we’re kickstarting, sets up a gateway to adventure through which all following programs can step while belonging to the same universe and involving a rotating list of our main casts. I am ridiculously excited about placing programs in the past, future and alternate realities, the latter visiting alternate versions of our established characters – if you get me started on it, make sure you’re sitting comfortably and that I have no liquids or sharp objects near my hands or I can guarantee accidents.

    The last few months have seen me working very solidly on the business and creative side of AFA: every day sees me teach, work on it between classes and try to be a decent friend and girlfriend, and some days it’s a hell of a juggling act. This means things slip through, I make mistakes and my timing is not always perfect. For instance, ‘check trademarking info’ had been on my list for untold months by the time I discovered that I could not trademark ‘Audio Fitness Adventures’ because it’s a descriptor of the company or product. Suddenly, AFA couldn’t be AFA any more.

    Being awful with names, I asked Facebook for alternate titles and landed on the suggestion Imaginactive (with thanks to Tony Ainsworth), after workshopping it with my team and on Facebook again. My subconscious then started to get more ambitious than my conscious mind would dream of being, sneakily suggesting that Imaginactive could be an over-riding company name and the audio fitness adventures just the first product. Imaginactive could, in other words, become a company eventually dabbling in many areas, as long as it did so in creative ways, such as producing narrative workouts.

    Current draft, feel free to improve...!

    Current draft, feel free to improve…!

    …I dream on…

    So: here we are. I have a limited company called Imaginactive. I have a large support network, although I suspect someone key is missing and yet to be found. I have a £40k three month audio fitness adventure program to fund via two private investors, a £10k Kickstarter and requiring another two £5k investors. The debates over how much to attempt to kickstart for have swung this way and that and I just don’t know that there’s a right answer beyond ‘lower is probably better, and pray’.

    I’m on the fourth draft of a kickstarter video, and after earlier impassioned pieces-to-camera, have settled on a risky but far funnier and more suitable narratively-driven script, featured the good Sergeant Hardman.

    I put up a website last week which was hacked the day after and now requires days of me slogging through WordPress Forums (from ‘how do I replace the header image with my logo?’ onwards, I have forgotten everything).

    We had a shoot with Lorenzo Guerrieri on Friday for concept images for the website which may or may not have worked out as planned…

    shoot 2

    Fun photo trickery (no logs will be jumped off in the running of this program, but monsters MAY attack you from below…)

    shoot 1

    …and then we just got carried away… (no flying side kicks will be used in the running of this program. Yet…)

    We’re hoping to launch the Kicikstarter on Sept 22 as the plan was to deliver next Summer and already I’m biting my nails over that. Aside from trying to work out how to build the website and arranging the video shoot, I’m in the throes of writing the first three episodes.

    Once we have the website up, everyone involved will be gently priming their social networks to be aware that we have a major crowd fund coming up. It feels awkward to me to do this but the general rule is that a crowd fund must fund to 30% of its total in the first few days off the team’s local network to have a chance of completing, and even after that, about 70% of the total will come from close  to home.

    That’s £7k.

    Frankly I am amazed I have any nails left.

    Whatever happens over the next few months, starting up Imaginactive has been a hell of a ride. I have learned more in the last year than I have in a number of years preceding it. I have been helped, pushed and encouraged every step of the way by people I would have expected to have my back, but often more from people I barely knew at all, and that’s been staggering.

    I hope we fund.

    Actually, I hope we significantly over fund, as that’s
    a) a big vote of confidence in the concept from the crowd and
    b) means everyone’s going to get paid half decently instead of half what they’re worth and
    c) just going to make everything along the way so much easier.

    I hope we then deliver Catalyst as an audio fitness adventure that first meets and then exceeds expectations, and that my dream of a company which employs many of my brilliant creative friends – mostly working in other, unrelated fields to make their living – for what they are worth, becomes a reality.

    And I really, really hope that we can deliver program after program that engages, energises, exercises and entertains people in ways they never thought possible. That they can start to understand and tap the potential of their bodies and the power of their imagination, to be more active, to able to better pursue their life’s work and play.

    And I thank everyone who has got behind me or the idea and pitched in, whether in meetings, phone calls, providing contacts, brain storming on Facebook, answering stupid questions and picking me up when I have stumbled along the way.

    If you’ve read this far, you’re a bloody legend.

    If you’ve read this far and are wondering if there’s any way you can get involved or help out, there absolutely are. To successfully complete our Kickstarter we will need

    People to share the hell out of the campaign. Not just sharing the link but sharing it with reasons why friends might be interested, and even tagging in those who might back it

    People with social networks related to writing and fitness who might act as ambassadors, sharing our campaign to their followers

    Links to media outlets who might cover the campaign with articles or interviews with me

    A friendly entertainment lawyer to draw up our contracts, insurances and ensure we’re not breaching anyone else’s copyright (and while absolutely being paid, without doubling the campaign total to do it…)

    Two more £5k investors to pick up our current shortfall, with return on investment from the commercial sales of Catalyst

    A backup videographer for the Kickstarter video in case Lorenzo is moving house…

    …and I’d be forever grateful for an hour or two of a WordPress pro’s time to save me hours of fumbling around with templates and slipping into html hell… o.O


    For everything that has passed to date, the Imagianctive adventure really is just beginning – and everyone is welcome on board for the ride.

    Join us: we're fit and TOTALLY HAVE CAKE!

    Join us: we’re fit and still TOTALLY HAVE CAKE!

    The Dirty Thirty does Tough Mudder

    2014 - 08.04

    I’m not a natural born runner and I’m sure not one of the hundreds of thousands of people signing up by choice to do a mud obstacle race. I am, however, dating one of those fanatics and when he decided his 30th birthday party was going to be running a Tough Mudder… I gritted my teeth and signed up too.

    Gritted my teeth REALLY hard. As you can see.

    Gritted my teeth REALLY hard. As you can see.

    As a fitness instructor I can work out for a good 3-4 hours at a time if needed but at 12 miles, Tough Mudder is a half marathon, largely on the inevitably eponymously muddy terrain, with what feels like the odd obstacle thrown in. There are in fact around 23 of the things, but they can feel a god-awful long way apart over that distance. The obstacles are all based on British Special Forces obstacle training and are therefore designed to test people against typical fears (fire, ice, electricity, heights, water) as well as strength, agility and skill.

    Ras and Ian last did the London Tough Mudder and admitted the Midlands Kettering course had considerably more mud. Not only that, but apparently feature mud: cow shit mud. Sheep shit mud. Sewerage mud. People-piss warm muddy water? Really doesn’t bear thinking about.

    Did I mention mud?

    Did I mention mud?

    That all said: Tough Mudder is one of the more accessible of the endurance mud races around. It is not even technically a race, in that, unusually, it is untimed, and the key focus is on getting around as a team rather than getting the fastest time. Most people do turn up as a team, with shirts and costumes (between cakings of mud, The Dirty Thirty were intermittently visible in our bright yellow shirts) and treat it as a rather extreme day’s entertainment.

    The Dirty Thirty (those who made it to the team start...) while still clean - Phaye, Ian, me (yes I am an air bender), birthday boy, April, Jess and Shanice

    The Dirty Thirty (those who made it to the team start…) while still clean – Phaye, Ian, me (yes I am an air bender), birthday boy, April, Jess and Shanice

    To my shame, my ‘training’ mainly consisted of 10-15 minute post-class runs, two to three times a week, for about…oooo…two weeks. My Trilogy bootcampers probably run 10-15 minutes a morning three times a week and could frankly run my socks off (running not being a main feature of the indoor studio and cycling classes I get my exercise through!) and indeed, it was in the running that The Dirty Thirty discovered Tough Mudder to be perhaps a little tougher than we were. Running on mud is particularly challenging for the hip flexors because of all the extra stabilisation required compared to, for instance, running on a dry safe path.

    Again with the MUD...

    Again with the MUD…

    So…there was some walking. Later, quite a lot of walking. But there were also dollops of camaraderie, silliness and the odd drama (falling from 12 foot walls is not recommended but thankfully Jess remained unbroken).

    4 miles, quite cheerful

    4 miles, quite cheerful

    The first obstacle on our Kettering Midlands course was a pair of giant walls – which the boys in the team hung around at to leg a bunch of other people over, probably knackering themselves a bit early in the day, but it was Very Chivalrous and absolutely in the spirit of the event.

    9 mile selfie - still running, still smiling...

    9 mile selfie – still running, still smiling…

    The third obstacle was my nemesis: the Artic Enema, aka A Freaking Ice Bath. I jumped in and out of the Copenhagen harbor a few times over Christmas but there wasn’t any actual ice in it.

    Now I won’t lie – I’d been threatening to skip the Enema, but at the time, as I suspected, it seemed the teamly thing to do to just jump in, go under the stupid tyres and hope not to go into shock.

    Was it awful?




    It was exactly as awful as… jumping into a full immersion ice bath. And not just any ice bath, but a manky, muddy, full immersion ice bath full of screaming people.

    I thought putting the Enema so early in the race was poor sportsmanship from the event organisers, but actually, we arrived hot from the early running, and shot out ready to run again so shook the goosebumps off surprisingly quickly. I was a lot colder later in the event when we were too tired to run but had to keep going back into water and out into an unforgiving wind.

    So. Much. Water.

    So. Much. Water.

    So: I survived my greatest fear and was all woooohoooo for a time – until I started fretting about the Electric Eel. I’ve bounced off more than my fair share of electric fences in my time and just didn’t see the appeal of being voluntarily electrocuted. So: hands up, I boycotted that one on the grounds of ‘I’m not paying £100 for this sort of shit.’

    The rest of the Dirty Thirty were much more macho than me about it – and then in a cruel twist to them, I think I was the only one who didn’t get electrocuted in the final Electro Shock Therapy run for the finish line (MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA).

    Don't ask. Just run.

    Don’t ask. Just run.

    The rest of the obstacles blur. I made it through everything except the monkey rings, where I grabbed one, just grabbed the second one, didn’t commit and was left hanging until, squealing and cursing, I had to drop into the water and get wet again. Jessica and Shanice swung straight through that one like gymnasts while I waded my way across feeling the Sads.
    April doing it exactly the way I didn't: well.

    April doing it exactly the way I didn’t: well.

    The Island Hopping was actually surprisingly fun (I leapt like a frog from one to the next, feet wide and hands down – highly inelegant but effective). I really did freak out a bit on Walk the Plank, a sheer drop that looked too high by far. Ras and I were up together and while he gamely jumped on the required countdown, I dithered precious seconds and could frankly have benefitted from a shove. The water impact burst my bum bag, which was the end of our gels (potentially a blessing, to our taste buds at least). Making something of a comeback, I scaled Everest (a steep quarter pipe) on the first try – thanks to some helping hands at the top who caught and pulled me over.

    11 miles...says it all really...

    11 miles…says it all really…

    In the weeks before the event, I was not-so-quietly anxious about getting an injury which would then prevent – or greatly handicap – my teaching for a period afterwards. No teaching, no income, no eating. Now I’ve been pain free from plantar fasciitis since October and am very keen to stay that way, and the week before Tough Mudder I limped into my physio with a dodgy left ankle, stiff back and locked right shoulder. I started the race still with the ankle still under par.

    And yet…

    …I can only assume it was the ice bath, frequent dips into cold water and last hour and a half of chattering teeth that stripped every bit of lingering inflammation from my body, because I came out of Tough Mudder in better shape than I went in.

    I’d long before booked a pre-emptive massage for two days after and sheepishly walked into Cherie’s treatment room in basically the best shape I’ve been in for years.

    I know, right Vizzini?!

    I know, right Vizzini?!

    The rest of the team are already talking about the next event, and Ras and Ian are going as far as to consider doing a Double Tough Mudder (running it both the Saturday and Sunday). I am… not so enthusiastic for a return visit.

    Yeah, okay, we did have fun...

    Yeah, okay, we did have fun…

    On the long list of very fun awesome things I get to do in my life, four hours of muddy, teeth chattering, electricity and ice-ridden running/walking isn’t particularly high up there. It was certainly a tick off the old bucket list though and I’m glad I was roped into joining the Dirty Thirty – and am thoroughly enjoying the new lease of life my body has experienced in the weeks since. Not sure I’m game to risk it as annual physical therapy mind you…
    I was strangling him at the time for bringing me, but then I saw the camera...

    I was strangling him at the time for bringing me, but then I saw the camera…

    …oh, and of course it was Ras’ birthday party, which I womanned up enough to share with him. We took him out for drinks the next day, limping around London (and I mean holding the stair handrail limping), just to be a bit more civilised as well.

    And, you know… it was little romantic.

    I mean an eeentsy weeency bit.

    Still with the whole WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?? thing

    Still with the whole WHAT HAPPENED TO MY LIFE?? thing