I READ an interview with tennis god Roger Federer the other day and what stood out most was not his opinion of Serena Williams’ recent altercation with an umpire, or plans for retirement. No, what really struck me was what he said about sleeping with his wife.

“I refuse to leave the bed with my wife,” the eight-time Wimbledon champion told the interviewer. “[I say to her] ‘We always wanted to have kids, but my dream was to be with you and not in another bedroom on another floor.’ I’d rather sleep with my kids screaming than away from my wife.”

Roger’s sleeping arrangements are obviously working out well for him. Not only is he widely recognised as the greatest male player of all time and still going strong at the age of 37 with 20 grand slams to his name, but he’s one of the wealthiest sportsmen in the world and adored by just about everyone. He appears blissfully happy with his wife, Mirka, and two lots of identical twins (one set of girls, one boys).

But another important thing became abundantly clear from Roger’s revelations about bedroom habits chez Federer: neither he nor his wife is a snorer.

I guarantee it. There’s no way he would have spoken with such nonchalant commitment to the marital bed if either of them turned into a foghorn as soon as the lights go out.

I say this with surety as the wife of a snorer (sorry, sweetheart), who doesn’t have the urgent need for sleep associated with being either an elite athlete or the mother of four young children. I do, however, have the sort of busy life that requires seven hours of unbroken kip a night. More’s the pity.

My husband snored the first time we ever shared a bed. Early on in our relationship we often joked about it, but by the time we moved in together I realised it was a long-term issue that would require a particular type of endurance. I accept and understand it’s not his fault, of course. But sometimes desperately trying to get to sleep next to an arrhythmic, spluttering engine takes its toll, which results in nagging and shaking him awake multiple times a night. Neither of us gets much sleep when this happens.

How many of us, I wonder, go to bed wondering whether the dreaded Snore Monster will come out tonight? The answer, according to statistics, is absolutely loads of us. Indeed, the Royal National Ear Nose and Throat Hospital in London says one in three couples under 35 have to endure at least three disturbed nights due to snoring a week (in this groups women are more likely to be the snorers). This rises to almost half couples the over fifty, where men are the main culprits.

This is no laughing matter. The consequences for snorers range from disturbing their partner’s sleep and having to endure some nagging, to a higher risk of raised blood pressure and even heart attack or stroke.

For the more than a million people in the UK with sleep apnoea, meanwhile – the medical condition that causes heavy snoring punctuated by sudden stops in breathing, waking themselves up hundreds of times a night – both health and quality of life can be seriously affected. I doubt their partners sleep easy either.

IThere are many reasons for snoring, of course, from being overweight and drinking too much to suffering from breathing problems. There are also a vast number of remedies, treatments and advised behaviour changes, from weight loss and not drinking alcohol just before bed, to nasal sprays, face-masks and even surgery. Some are clearly more successful than others. The NHS website, meanwhile, suggests taping a tennis ball to the back of the snorer’s sleepwear - surely not even Federer would want to do this?

From my own experience, and from looking at online, forums it seems most folk just get on with it, learning to survive on less sleep, treating snore-free nights - and the odd night away from their partner - as a bonus.

My beloved has snored since he was a child, apparently; he’s slim, doesn’t smoke, isn’t a heavy drinker. He has suffered a lifetime of allergies and blocked sinuses, however, a miserable problem for which there is no easy cure. If there was, he’d have pursued it, certainly since we got together, as I know he feels terrible about keeping me awake at night.

Over time we’ve learned to live with it. I try to fall sleep before him - which isn’t always possible, I sometimes wear earplugs and if either of us need to be up early for something special, the other sleeps on the sofa, though sighing stomps to the sitting room in the wee small hours remains an occasional necessity for both of us - unlike the Federers we do not have “another floor”, or even a spare bedroom.

It’s not all bad news, though. Indeed, I’d even go as far to say that snoring has been good for our marriage, in at least one important way. It’s certainly helped me realise that to sustain a happy and successful relationship patience and stoicism are vital. And there’s no better way to practice them than in dealing as kindly as possible with the snorer you love. A comfortable sofa helps too, of course.