Article: Susan Dominus from Men's Health

The night I met him at a party, I wasn't sure what to make of the man who would become my husband. I noticed the bleached hair and the earring, which contrasted with a certain relaxed way he had of hanging back – it made me want to lean in close, to see what subterranean tremors and vibes I could discern and interpret.

We were both runners, it turned out. When I left the party, I'd decided I wasn't interested. But I can think of no other reason than lingering thoughts of him to explain why, the next day – a muggy freak of a scorcher in early June – I chose to go running in the park. I was only half aware that I was thinking about him when I actually noticed him coming towards me in the distance, a tiny pinprick of a daydream, first small, then larger, as if I'd summoned him from the shimmering pavement.

The reality was better than the daydream: his shirt off, tucked into his shorts and drifting behind him, he came flying at me, all sweat, displayed muscle and speed, as if that terse energy I'd detected at the party had been unleashed. I think I recognised him before he saw me, but I was too stunned and confused to stop. The night before, in my sheer black shirt and high boots, I'd thought I had the upper hand. Suddenly I was a shambling, unkempt jogger, running for my life in the hope that this swift-footed Adonis wouldn't notice my unglamorous transformation. Whether he did or didn't, he called me the next day, thank God.

I love his coiled energy, especially now that I've seen what happens when he lets it go. Some people love to watch their loved one sleep; I love to watch my loved one run, when this ordinarily understated human being brazenly shows off a graceful athleticism that typically only I get to see, a secret privilege other women might not even know to envy. Some people find a quiet man unsettling; I find mine a pleasurable challenge.

He dissipates all my nervous energy – and that's a considerable amount. I love hearing him laugh out loud from the next room. I love the cut of his shoulders. I love the way he talks, choosing every word with care. But even more than that – and I know this would surprise him – I still love the aura I sensed the night we met: a combination of mental focus, calm and confident physicality. He makes my subconscious swoon.

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