He told me he was too tired to call me goodnight. But his Apple Watch told me he was getting plenty of cardio—just not at the gym.
My husband, Mark, and I were “Fitbit friends.” We had synced our devices years ago to challenge each other to step competitions. It was a fun way to stay connected, or so I thought.
Last month, Mark went on a business trip to Chicago. “I’m going to be slammed,” he texted me at 9:00 PM on Tuesday. “Meetings ran late. I’m exhausted. Going straight to bed. Love you.”
“Sleep well,” I replied. I missed him, but I trusted him.
The Notification
I woke up early the next morning, around 6:00 AM, to get ready for yoga. I opened the fitness app on my phone to log my water intake. A banner popped up at the top of the screen: “Mark has burned 600 calories! Send him a cheer!”
I frowned. Mark isn’t a morning person. 600 calories before 6:00 AM? That seemed ambitious. I clicked on his profile to see what kind of workout he did.
The Data
The graph loaded, and my blood ran cold. Mark hadn’t worked out in the morning. According to the time stamp, his “activity” started at 1:45 AM and ended at 2:30 AM.
Metrics:
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Zone: Cardio / Peak
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Avg Heart Rate: 130 bpm
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Peak Heart Rate: 165 bpm
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Calories Burned: 580
Mark claimed he went to sleep at 9:00 PM. Unless he was running a marathon in his dreams, there is only one human activity that sustains a heart rate of 130 bpm for 45 minutes in the middle of the night.
The GPS Confirmation
I tried to tell myself I was crazy. Maybe he woke up and couldn’t sleep? Maybe he used the hotel gym? But Mark had recently upgraded to a newer model watch—one with built-in GPS tracking for his runs.
I tapped on the “Map” tab of his workout. He wasn’t at the Downtown Marriott, where he said he was staying. The blue line of his “workout” was pinging from a residential address in Evanston, a suburb 40 minutes away.
I Googled the address. Zillow Owner History: Sarah Jenkins. Sarah was his college ex-girlfriend. The one he swore he hadn’t spoken to in ten years.
The Confrontation
I didn’t wait for him to come home. I took a screenshot of the heart rate graph and the GPS map. I texted them to him with a simple caption: “Did you enjoy your 2 AM cardio session with Sarah? Or was that just a glitch?”
The three dots of him typing appeared instantly. Then disappeared. Then appeared again. He called. I sent it to voicemail.
The Excuse
He left a panicked voicemail claiming he had “loaned his watch to a friend” (who borrows a watch at 2 AM?) and that he visited Sarah just to “catch up.” “We just talked!” he pleaded.
“Mark,” I texted back. “People don’t hit a heart rate of 165 bpm while sitting on a couch talking. The data doesn’t lie.”
The Aftermath
When he came home, his bags were already packed. I printed out the fitness report and taped it to the front door. I also updated my bio on the fitness app: “Single and looking for a new step partner.”
He tried to fight the divorce, but it’s hard to argue with biometric data. The “glitch” cost him his marriage. I kept the app, though. It’s a great reminder that while men lie, heart rates don’t.
