‘My husband became obsessed with triathlons. It killed our sex life and our marriage’

Reminder, this is a Premium article and requires a subscription to read.
What happens when quitting alcohol and discovering a healthier lifestyle reveals cracks in your relationship? Photo / Getty Images
My husband’s sudden lifestyle change had an immense impact on our children, our friends – and our sex life.

I remember how much I used to love the Friday night ritual of opening a bottle of wine with my ex, Tom*, after he’d got home from work. He
worked longer hours than me and I used to listen out for the sound of his car on the driveway. If it was winter, we would opt for a nice malbec in front of the fire or, on summer evenings, a sauvignon blanc or Whispering Angel in the garden.

Tom and I met at university almost 20 years ago and we were never what you’d call big drinkers, at least not since we had had our two children, now 9 and 11. But there was something about that sense of camaraderie of sharing a drink together which united us.
When he announced, in September 2021, that he was doing Sober October, I didn’t think much of it. “Good for you,” I said, while loading up the fridge with shopping. We’d drunk too much over lockdown and I thought it was good he was taking a break from booze. I even contemplated doing it too but I had a friend’s 40th birthday coming up so thought I would give it a miss.
At first, things carried on much the same as normal. Although I missed our Friday night drink together, I tried to be supportive. I bought no or low alcoholic wine instead, so we could at least keep the ritual going. Tom, an all or nothing sort, wouldn’t even try the low alcohol options though and I couldn’t find anything else I liked.
Then when Tom announced he was doing a couch to 5k I once again tried to be encouraging, although I started to begrudge the fact he began training on Saturday mornings when he used to take our eldest to football. There goes my lie in, I thought.
It was when we were socialising together and after Tom decided he was going to do a triathlon that the problems really started. He said he needs to train three nights a week for swimming, cycling and running plus another session on a Saturday morning.
You would think all that training would help boost our sex life but it was the opposite. He was so tired, he started going to bed before me. He often used to get quite amorous after a few drinks on a Friday, but that all stopped and it made me feel very dejected.
I also felt annoyed that he expected me to pick up the slack with the children. I probably should have said something then but I’m not very good at confrontation so we never really discussed it.
Looking back, that sense of resentment was one of the things that drove us apart. It felt as though spending time with me and the children wasn’t enough for Tom any more. I took it personally – how could anyone not? I started to withdraw from him a bit too. I spent more time on social media and less time chatting with him in the evenings.
The children started to notice too. “No Dad again tonight?” my eldest would say. He’d went from helping him with his homework to never being there.
I felt angry on the children’s behalf. He wasn’t just making me feel dejected, he was doing it to them too.
“Can you at least tell the children you won’t be back till later?” I asked him. He rolled his eyes at me and made me feel like a nag. I hated that.
All the training had a big impact on our social lives too. Most of our social life revolved around drinking. We usually had a dinner party or two each month or a get together in London when we’d rope in one of the grandparents to babysit. When Tom stopped drinking, it changed the dynamic.
Tom, an accountant, wasn’t exactly the life and soul of the party before and needed a drink or two to loosen up. When he went sober, all he wanted to talk about was his training. He’d discuss at great length the pros and cons of protein shakes and he kept talking about people I’d never met – middle-aged men who spent their weekends cycling.
So I started going out without him and pretty soon realised that actually, it was more fun on my own. Not only did I save a small fortune on babysitters, I liked the freedom. Instead of saving up little things from the week for a Friday night chats, I’d tell my sister or friends instead. It’s such a cliche but we really started to drift apart.
Pretty soon separate nights out became separate bedrooms. I realised one night when I was waiting resentfully for Tom to come home that I couldn’t go on like this. I’d never imagined we would divorce, does anyone?
Exactly 14 years and one month after we got married, I asked Tom for a separation. We had become more like flatmates than husband and wife, I told him. If I’m totally honest, I suppose I wanted him to fight for me and for our family but he just seemed to accept it blithely. “Do you want me to move out then?” he asked.
We told the children together. There were a few tears from our youngest but our son seemed to be very stoic about it. “Are you having a midlife crisis, Dad?” he asked. Tom just laughed.
Tom moved out last May and we’re waiting for our divorce to come through. I think his going sober played a part but it was probably his subsequent obsession with triathlon training which was the nail in the coffin.
It made me realise how little we actually had in common. That Friday night drink was the one time a week we actually sat down together and talked – not just about the children who needed picking up from where or what we were going to have for dinner – but about what had annoyed us at work that week or how we were feeling in general.
I know they say you shouldn’t use alcohol as a crutch but without that little ritual, it was as though we lost our connection. At first I felt as though I’d failed but then I realised that it was both of us who had stopped trying.
I’ve been single now for over six months and though I miss having someone to cuddle up to, I think I’ve coped pretty well. Friday night drinks with Tom have been replaced by a trip to the pub with my sister or dinner with friends while he has the children.
As for Tom, he is training for another triathlon and can drink his protein shakes uninterrupted now. There is no denying the fact he looks great, he’s even working on getting a six-pack, but for me the spark and our connection alongside that shared bottle of wine has, sadly, gone.
Janey Lee Grace, an author, broadcaster and sober coach, says many people worry when they make the decision to quit alcohol that it will affect their relationship but that doesn’t have to be the case.
“If you and your partner are ‘drinking buddies’ it can feel tricky and people fear they’ll lose the emotional connection,” she notes.
The reality is, however, that we put alcohol on a pedestal.
“We believe it’s the booze that’s making us feel connected but it’s actually just the associations around drinking. It shouldn’t matter one jot what’s in your glass. If you’re a vegetarian at a family barbecue, no one cares if you’re having a veggie burger or a meat one. It’s the same with alcohol,” Lee Grace says.
“We like to sit and have a ‘drink’ together, so ensure you have a nice glass, just swap the alcohol for something like ‘Nosecco’ (alcohol free prosecco), botanical spirits or kombucha. My mantra is: ‘keep the ritual, change the ingredients.’”
Lee Grace recommends not making a big deal of giving up and outlining what your partner can do to help support you.
“Tell your partner you’re doing a wellbeing challenge (it’s not a lie!) so therefore you’ll be eating well, focusing on self-care and obviously not drinking. Tell them it would be great if they could give you a bit of support and not try and offer you booze or tempt you to go to the pub.”
One client, she says, told her partner she wanted to focus on having a healthy menopause. “She explained she would eat well, be out exercising and would not be drinking. There were no more questions after that!”
While many partners can struggle to accept things at first, they often come round, Lee Grace says. “Sometimes I think male partners in particular can feel a bit threatened when a woman really starts to grow and blossom and they don’t know if they can keep up.”
Ultimately, however, you have to quit alcohol for you.
“Quitting the booze is the best thing you’ll ever do for your health and wellbeing and you must do it for you. You can’t do it for anyone else. It’s about creating a life you don’t need to escape from.”
As told to Georgina Fuller
Reminder, this is a Premium article and requires a subscription to read.