I SUSPECT THAT she might have, if only for a couple more runs.

In retrospect, it's clear we suffered from what I've dubbed SDS, or Skills Deficit Syndrome, an affliction that's become all too common to relationships nurtured (and ended) in the outdoors. He enjoys jogging; she trains Kenyans. She likes to boulder; he soloed El Cap barefoot. The signs are obvious no matter what the imbalance. One person is slow, awkward, and exhausted. The other is either shouting encouragement ("What the hell!") or half asleep at the finish line.

From my unscientific research, SDS seems to most severely afflict mediocre outdoorspeople living in jockish mountain or beach towns. In other words, me and all my guy friends who know the lingo but can't do the moves. Surrounded by the perfectly toned couples of San Diego, Durango, or Jackson, we imagine that we too could be, if not the better half, at least one half of an alpha couple. We too could rise with the sun and surf a monster left-hand tube with our beloved... if only we didn't find big waves so scary.

Near as I can tell, there were no Gabby-and-Lairds back in the hook-and-bullet days, when guys just ventured off on their own to drink Stroh's and stab each other in the boots with frog-gigging spears. But then we discovered what Manhattan-based sex-and-relationships counselor Ian Kerner explained to me—"Adrenaline makes the heart grow fonder"—and now women and men share not only the trails but first ascents. In this brave new world, the alpha-couple dream is common, and keeping up with the Super Joneses too often leads to frustration.

Can you beat SDS? If not, then how do you live with it?

In search of answers, I contacted Evan Marc Katz, a bedroom-eyed "personal trainer for people who want to fall in love" and "America's leading dating expert," according to EvanMarcKatz.com. He was very busy and dismissed my concerns with a guffaw.

"Most people are just trying to find a partner!" Katz said. "We're not talking about a Middle East peace summit here. If he's a hiker and wants her to come along, then he has to slow down. If she wants to come along to spend time with him, then she's gonna have to speed up."

I told him it was rarely that easy.

He replied, "If that's so, you should count your blessings to know."

What was that, some kind of Zen koan in rhyme? Left adrift, I began to muse on my own dating history to see if there weren't some lessons to be gleaned.

Indeed there were.