Josh Widdicombe is the first to admit he’s no alpha male – unless that alpha’s armed with a Cyndi Lauper playlist, a microwaveable soup, and an aversion to camping. As he hits 500 episodes of his hit podcast Parenting Hell, the comedian opens up about fatherhood, fitness, sobriety, and why cottage cheese has become his main tour rider demand.

Men’s Health: What grade would you give your overall approach to fitness?

Josh Widdicombe: I’d give myself a B. I exercise three times a week, which involves avoiding yoga and running through Victoria Park, before lifting some weights in my shed. I’ve started to enjoy exercise, too, which is a step in the right direction.

MH: Have you got a running playlist?

JW: I’m in a phase of playing ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ by Cyndi Lauper at least twice an outing. It feels very 1980s New York City, which, when it’s sunny in London, is a lot of fun.

MH: You’ve recently hit your 500th episode of Parenting Hell, the podcast you host with fellow comedian Rob Beckett. What are the surprising recurring themes that come up when chatting with celebrity dads?

JW: The point of the podcast is to discuss how we’re all just doing our best. There’s lots of talking about being awake at 3am, feeling you’re the only person in the world who’s up, wondering if your child will ever sleep again and how easy it is to forget this type of deprivation is a recognised form of torture.

MH: Your daughter is seven now. Did you survive her bedtime torture?

JW: She’s great now. She’ll sit and read her book about fairy-vampires, and I’ll read mine about 1980s Northern Ireland. It’s the best thing in the world. The smartest way to deal with parenthood is to remember the great bits and use the bad bits to launch a podcast that provides the main income of your career.

MH: I’m going to guess that your book is Say Nothing by Patrick Radden Keefe?

JW: It is! He’s incredible. I’ve read a bunch of his books. I can recommend Empire Of Pain, about the Sackler pharmaceuticals dynasty.

MH: You’ve been sober for two years. What led to your decision to lose the booze?

JW: I didn’t drink all the time, but when I did, I couldn’t stop. I’m definitely not down on booze – I had some of the best times of my life when I was drinking and university was brilliant because of alcohol. I just relate to it all wrong. I’m a bit of an obsessive, excessive character, whether that’s work or buying books.

MH: Have you embraced the NoLo beer trend?

JW: I fucking hate non-alcoholic beer. I don’t see the point. I drank beer for the feelings attached to it, not the taste. Tea or fizzy water is my thing now. I was on a train recently and the woman serving me called it ‘Angry Water’, which I enjoyed. I’m trying to get that into the vernacular.

MH: You’re heading out on tour again soon. How healthy is your rider these days?

JW: I usually seek out a train station M&S and grab a soup, then cook it in the dressing room microwave. Christ, that’s a bleak image, isn’t it? There’s more cottage cheese than cocaine backstage at my shows, put it that way.

MH: How would you describe your masculinity?

JW: I don’t struggle with my masculinity. At school, I wasn’t a nerd as such, but I was obsessed with football, so I could always talk to an alpha bloke. That, and being a big drinker later on, is what got me through those situations. I was brought up during the ‘new lad’ generation, watching TFI Friday, playing Fantasy Football and listening to Britpop. But I’ve always been more of a Jarvis Cocker than a Liam Gallagher. I saw Pulp earlier this year and I think I’ll enjoy that gig more than Oasis in September. I’m slightly worried about that long walk up to Wembley.

MH: What role do you take on at a barbecue?

JW: The guy thinking, ‘I hope they don’t put that halloumi down on the same griddle that just had meat on it.’ I’m a vegetarian. I have been all my life. I can’t imagine what my body would do to itself if I started eating meat.

MH: You were raised in the southwest of England, on Dartmoor. Do you fantasise about relocating to a wilder place with your family?

JW: My wife and I have a conversation about moving out of London at least once every three months. But it never goes anywhere, although I think we’re getting closer. I’ve lived in this city for almost 25 years, but the idea of raising a teenager here is a tough one to compute.

MH: How would you and your masculinity fare if you were lost on the moors armed only with a tennis racket, a shoestring and a paperclip?

JW: I’d die. If I can go the rest of my life without camping, I’ll consider that a victory.

Josh’s new UK stand-up tour, Not My Cup Of Tea, runs from 14 September 2025 to 16 May 2026