Jogging Wife’s Secret

I began to suspect that my wife, Isabel, was up to no
good about six months ago. We have been married for
seven years and although there is nothing routine and
boring about our marriage � we would both describe our
marriage as happy � she got into the habit, after about
three years, of jogging every Saturday and Sunday
morning (unless we went out for the day or were on
holiday) and most Thursday evenings when I worked late.

She would also go jogging sometimes if I went out for a
drink with my friends from work. Normally the business
of getting ready, warming up, jogging through the park
to the nature reserve and back, doing further exercises
at home and then getting undressed and having a shower,
took about two hours, which I always felt was a little
too long and sometimes complained about.

However, one Sunday morning six months ago she took
longer than usual, by about half an hour at least; she
told me that part of her usual route had been fenced
off due to some land reclamation work going on. The
following Saturday, it took her an hour longer, and she
said that even more land had been barricaded off. It
looked as if this work would go on for some time.

I suggested she change or curtail her route, but she
said there was no alternative � the other parks were
too far away and the terrain over other parts of the
nature reserve was too rough and almost impassable. I
would just have to get used to the idea that for some
weeks she would be home an hour later than usual from
jogging.

Some Saturdays and Sundays she was delayed by more than
an hour, and sometimes when I came home from working
late on Thursdays she would not yet be there; she would
turn up half an hour later, hot, sweaty and flushed and
take a quick shower.

Then, one weekend about three weeks after her extended
jogging sessions began, she asked me whether I planned
to go out for a drink the following week. Normally I
didn’t make such plans until Monday or Tuesday, and
would not go out until Wednesday evening at the
earliest. I seldom went out more than once a week,
although sometimes after working late on Thursday I
would have a few drinks in a bar nearby with my
colleagues.

I said I might have a drink with John or Peter or Len,
but as yet had made no plans. She asked me to let her
know as soon as possible, because she would then
arrange to leave work early that night so she would get
home earlier and have time to go jogging before it got
dark. I nearly fell of my chair. She couldn’t possibly
want to jog any more than she was already? It was
already taking her three hours a week more than usual.
But she was insistent: she wanted to jog more often, as
she didn’t feel as if she was fit enough.

From then onwards she asked me regularly, every
weekend, whether I had planned to go out for a drink
next week. She even began to suggest that I go out with
old so-and-so who I hadn’t seen for some time and to
encourage me to meet up with friends of mine whom she
had once claimed to dislike. Before long I found myself
going out Tuesdays and Wednesdays, working late
Thursdays and going out again on Fridays. It was pretty
exhausting, to say the least.

But not so exhausting that I failed to discern certain
changes in my wife. Firstly, she seemed much more happy
and vigorous than previously. Like many career women,
privately she often felt inadequate � she wasn’t pretty
enough, she was too fat, she didn’t have enough clothes
to wear, her career was a failure; none of which was
true, of course, but she always ran through this litany
at least once a week.

By :

Check Also

A Wife’s Temptation

I was five months pregnant, but not showing much. Not enough to start with maternity …

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *