Of course, looking back, I can see that the compulsive part of me had found the perfect outlet. My beloved cardio machines, with their prominent displays telling me just how many slices of pizza my workout was worth, became a game, a way for me to push myself further and further every time. And, as my weight stopped being the issue, my eating habits got even more out of control. At some point, working out stopped being about making me feel good — instead, I went to the gym so I would be able to eat whatever I wanted. Unsurprisingly, I became prone to bingeing. Somewhere along the way, working out became a very real way of purging myself of the sins I'd committed the night before. Two hundred more calories on the arc trainer, I thought, until I got to 2,000 for the day. Huff, puff. Sweat. Repeat.