With a grin on my face and a sideways glance at my wife, Sarah, I was off – racing to outsprint her to the end of the gym. We touched the wall at the same time, panting, and I couldn’t help smiling.
There was a time when tying with Sarah in a race would have been unimaginable – as would being in the gym with her. As we headed for a pick-me-up coffee, I reflected on how different my mornings were.
Just a year before, at over 21st, I’d get out of breath on the stairs. When the alarm went off I’d see Sarah swinging out of bed and grabbing her gym kit.
She’d ask me to join her, but I’d say, ‘No thanks, you enjoy it,’ before burrowing back under the duvet. When I woke again, I always wished I’d gone.
Read more on mirror.co.uk