Sport and fitness are a huge part of his life, from mountain biking to wild swimming and marathons. He had to leave our first date early because he was doing a triathlon the next day. I knew from the start that he was extremely sporty and driven. I’m always so relieved to find him intact when he returns, I don’t get as cross as I should. In my nightmares, if he’s not lying dead in a mountain pass, he’s paralysed for life, brain-damaged or in a coma. He’s obsessed with extreme sports, and every weekend, I wave him off wondering if he’ll come back alive.
Mine is more likely to be tubing inside a crashing wave on his pro surfboard or halfway up a freezing rock face.
I’d love to be married to a man who likes to chill out on the sofa with a tube of Pringles. When my friends moan about their lardy, couch-potato husbands, I feel nothing but envy.