How I Reclaimed Freedom by Quitting Exercise During Anorexia Recovery

Welcome back to the Bite by Bite Podcast.

In a world where exercise is applauded and referred to as “discipline” and “dedication,” it’s hard to realize that what you’re doing is actually an unhealthy addiction fueled by debilitating anxiety.

In this episode, Kait shares how she quit exercising cold turkey in 2024 after a mental breakdown. She dives deep into describing strategies that she used in order to cope with the loss of her main coping mechanism. She describes things she learned, such as urges to move are actually messengers that something deeper needs her attention. 

For the full context of the topic of this episode be sure to listen to:

Episode 2: THE SECRET THAT ATE ME ALIVE: My 10-Year Eating Disorder Recovery Timeline

Episode 11: EATING DISORDER RECOVERY AFTER RELAPSE: My Recovery Story

Episode topics:

• Kait describes the two chapters of her compulsive exercise (2:15)
• Kait’s compulsive exercise shape shifts into compulsive movement (4:33)
• Kait shares the strategies she used to cope with quitting exercise (7:23)
• Grieving your exercise routine is part of the process (11:27)
• Nervous system dysregulation is a messenger (12:08)
• Movement should be a relationship, not a performance (12:55)

Content Warning: This episode contains brief mentions of eating disorder behaviors that Kait has previously engaged in. Please listen in a way that feels safe for you and your recovery. 

Connect with Kait

@bitebybiterecovery

bitebybiterecovery@gmail.com 

Affiliate Links

COMFRT 

FIND THE GOOD 

Chapters

• 2:15 Kait describes the two chapters of her compulsive exercise
• 4:33 Kait's compulsive exercise shape shifts into low-impact movement
• 7:23 Kait shares the strategies she used to cope with quitting exercise
• 11:27 Grieving your exercise routine is part of the process
• 12:08 Nervous system dysregulation is a messenger
• 12:55 Movement should be a relationship, not a performance

Transcript

UNKNOWN: 0:00

🎵🎵

SPEAKER_00: 0:10

Hey there, and welcome to Bite by Bite, the podcast that takes you step-by-step through the messy, beautiful, and real journey of my struggle with an eating disorder and my recovery. I'm Kate, and I'm here to share my experiences, lessons, and the wisdom I've gathered along the way. Here, I share it all. The raw, the real, and the uncensored, so those who can relate know they're not alone in the tough moments. And for those of you who haven't battled an eating disorder, your attention Before we dive in, please remember that while I hope my story and reflections can be helpful, this podcast is not a substitute for professional treatment. If you're struggling or need extra support, please reach out to a qualified mental health professional. In today's episode, I'll be talking about what helped me get through my exercise addiction when I quit working out cold turkey in 2024. I'll be describing how my eating disorder turned movement into a form of control and what it took to give that up. From compulsive running, to cycling on my Peloton bike for hours, to learning how to actually rest, this episode is about what exercise can't fix and how I learned to listen to what my body and my life was really asking for. In episode 2, I share the full timeline of my eating disorder which does include an in-depth conversation about my exercise addiction. In episode 11, I talk about my two chapters of recovery which is also important to know to fully understand why I let go of exercise. This episode mentions previous eating disorder behaviors I have engaged in. Please listen to this episode only if it feels right for you. And one more thing, this podcast is explicit because if I'm going to do something, there's no way I'm going to leave my personality out of it. So let's dive in.

UNKNOWN: 2:08

So

SPEAKER_00: 2:14

I want to start by talking about two chapters in my relationship with exercise, running and the Peloton. These were two tools that I used to feel in control, to cope, and to ultimately measure my own worth. Running started out innocently. A few times a week, nothing intense. It felt good to move. It felt good to clear my head. But slowly, almost without realizing it, a few times a week became every day. Every day became twice a day. And eventually, Twice a day became before every meal and after every meal. If I ate, I had to run. If I didn't run, I didn't feel like I was allowed to eat. I don't ever remember making a conscious decision to take it that far. It just happened. Until the day it didn't feel like a choice anymore, it was automatic. After treatment, my relationship with exercise did not magically heal. I went through this phase I'd call the internal warfare stage. I'd go to the gym randomly, do these half-assed workouts, not because I wanted to, because I didn't know what else to do with myself. I wasn't following a plan, but I also wasn't free. It was this weird in-between where I felt both rebellious and guilty. Like, am I doing enough? Is this healthy? Why do I feel like I'm failing even though I'm trying to recover? Then came the Peloton. At first, it sounded exciting, structured, fun even, something I could do with a group of people. I started out riding just a few times a week, But you probably already know where this is going. A few times a week turned into every day. Got into this rigid, must-follow routine, multiple times a day. The kind of routine where missing a ride felt like I was unraveling and resulted in a debilitating anxiety. And eventually, I did unravel. I had a full-on mental breakdown around it. The stress of maintaining this perfect streak, the pressure, the shame, it all imploded. I ended up quitting exercise cold turkey that day and and selling my Peloton bike a week later. Not because movement is bad, but because I couldn't keep pretending that what I was doing was about health. It was about control. It was about proving something. To who? Who knows. And it was trying to earn my right to exist. After I let go of running and the Peloton, I didn't just fall into this peaceful, intuitive relationship with movement. Honestly, I think that's a myth we're sold sometimes in recovery. That once you give up the harmful stuff, you just arrive at balance. For me, it was more like the shape of the compulsion just changed. It shapeshifted. I shifted from intense cardio to what looked like low-impact movement, but my brain was still running the same script. I got an OCD-level fixation on walking my dog. Not just walking her, but how far, how long, how fast. It had to be a certain number of steps, a certain route, a certain amount of time. If I didn't hit those boxes it didn't count. And it wasn't about my dog. It was about me and what I thought I had to do to deserve rest. I told myself that she needed this type of walk for the length, the amount of time, to be happy. But I have since learned that that is not true. There was also this pattern of not being able to sit still after eating. I felt like I had to do something, whether it was cleaning, taking out the trash, driving somewhere, anything to avoid stillness. Stillness felt dangerous to me still. like it would confirm every fear I've had about myself. Today, exercise looks very different. I recently got into mountain biking and that started with pedaling, which I hate. So, I sold my regular pedal bike and only ride my electric system mountain bike now or my downhill bike at the bike park. I don't do this for the calorie burn. I don't do this for any numbers. I do it for the thrill. I do it for the community of mountain biking and the progression of skills It's one of the few spaces where I feel present in my body rather than trying to control it. Downhill mountain biking is the only form of movement I've been able to find and participate in where my brain doesn't abuse myself with it. And here's the thing. If the old compulsions or urges pop up again, because sometimes they do, I don't shame myself for it. I take it as a cue. I take it as a signal that something deeper is going on. Usually it means I'm anxious about something or that I'm avoiding a hard emotion or a hard conversation, or I just feel out of control in another area of my life. Because in the end, it was never really about the exercise. It was about coping, and it was about trying to control. It was about trying to manage what felt unmanageable. Now I try to ask, what's actually going on here? What do I really need? And most of the time, it's not a workout. It's a moment of honesty, It's a deep breath. It's a call and a conversation to someone I trust. Or it's just permission to rest. If you're listening to this and realizing that your relationship with exercise feels complicated, maybe even painful, I just want to say that you're not broken, you're not dramatic, you're not going insane, and most importantly, you're not alone. I know how confusing it can be when the world applauds you for being so disciplined or so active or so healthy, while inside you feel trapped by the exercise. So if you're struggling, I will share a few things that helped me, and maybe they can meet you where you are at and help you too. I started to get curious, not critical. That inner voice can quickly turn harsh. What's wrong with me? Why can't I just stop? But curiosity opens the door to understanding while criticism shuts it. For example, when I notice an urge to move, I try asking myself, what's really going on underneath this? Am I anxious? Am I worried? Am I stressed? Am I avoiding an emotion? Am I looking for a sense of control? That shift from what's wrong with me to what's going on with me or what do I really need right now changed everything. Curiosity helps us treat ourselves like someone worth listening to, not someone who needs to be punished. Be sure to watch your why. It's not always about the exact activity. It's about the intention behind it. Am I moving to connect with myself or to escape from myself? Am I exercising because it generally feels good or because I'm afraid of what happens if I don't? Two people can do the exact same workout, but the experience will feel completely different depending on the why behind it. Experiment with being still. Stillness can feel almost unbearable at first. But carving out even just five minutes to sit there and do nothing is powerful. Stillness is not laziness. It's information. It tells us what emotions we're running from, what fears surface when we're not doing, and what our nervous system is holding onto. When we practice stillness in small doses, we show ourselves that we can survive it. Over time, stillness becomes less threatening and more like a form of strength. Set boundaries with trackers and routines. Wearables like the Apple Watches, Oura Rings, Garmin Watches, etc. can be great tools for some people. They track steps, calories, heart rate, sleep, workouts, etc. and can even give feedback about recovery and stress. But when you're in recovery, those same numbers and those same indicators can quickly become traps. If you notice your moon rising and falling with what your watch says or if you feel guilty for not closing rings or hitting a step goal, that's important data too. It's a sign that you need a boundary. Taking off the watch, breaking a routine, or ignoring a notification isn't failing. It's practicing flexibility. And flexibility is a form of freedom. Remember, you are the authority on your body, not your wearable. Let your movement evolve. Movement doesn't have to stay the same forever. Something that once felt supportive might now feel restrictive. And that's okay. It's okay to let go. It's okay to try something new. And it's okay if right now, movement doesn't even exist in your life at all. Healing means rewriting your relationship with movement again and again. What matters is not clinging to a rigid picture of what it should look like, but letting it evolve with you. Shifting your relationship with movement can stir up a lot. Fear, grief, anger, even identity questions. Trying to carry that all by yourself is exhausting. That's why support is so essential. Whether it's a therapist, a close friend, or a recovery group, having safe people to process with makes the wait a little bit lighter. Healing was never meant to happen in isolation, and you don't have to prove you can do it all on your own. When movement becomes a major part of your life, whether as a coping tool, a source of identity, or even a way to feel in control, changing that relationship can feel like a loss. and that's normal. You might miss the structure, the high, or the sense of certainty it once gave you. Feeling sadness or longing for those old routines doesn't mean you're failing in recovery. It just means that you're human. Grieving the old patterns is actually a part of the process, and it's a part of creating space for new, healthier ones. So if you notice frustration, sadness, or even anger bubbling up, that's not a sign you're slipping backwards. It's a sign that you're moving through the process. Another piece that often gets overlooked is the nervous system. A lot of times, urges to move aren't just about discipline or motivation. They're about biology. When our bodies feel anxious, unsafe, or overwhelmed, they want to do something with all of that energy. That's why stillness can still feel so uncomfortable. It forces us to sit with that activation. Recovery doesn't just mean forcing yourself to stop moving. It means finding new ways to tell your body you're safe now. That could look like deep breathing, grounding exercise, stretching in a gentle, non-compulsive way, or reaching out to someone supportive. The goal isn't to suppress the energy, it's to regulate it, to show your body that stillness can be safe too. And finally, I think one of the most freeing shifts is to start thinking about movement as a relationship, rather than a performance. Like any relationship, it can be complicated. There may be seasons where it feels joyful and life-giving, and seasons where it feels tense or disconnected. Sometimes you need space. Sometimes you come back together in a new way. When we see movement this way, it stops being about good or bad workouts or whether we're doing enough. It becomes more about listening, adjusting, and allowing it to evolve with us. You always have the right to renegotiate the terms of that relationship because your worth was never dependent on how much you moved in the first place. As we close today, I want to remind you, changing your relationship with movement is not about perfection it's about curiosity compassion and flexibility it's about noticing the why behind what you do giving yourself permission to rest and remembering that your worth is never tied to a number on a watch or the miles on a treadmill if you're grieving what exercise used to be for you that's okay if stillness feels hard that's also okay healing is a process and you don't have to go through it in a fast pace I hope these strategies give you something to hold on to, whether it's asking better questions, setting boundaries with trackers, or simply practicing five minutes of stillness. Every small step counts. And if this episode resonated with you, I'd love for you to share it with someone who might need the reminder that freedom with movement is possible. You are not broken. You are becoming free. Thank you so much for joining me for this episode of Bite by Bite. I'm so grateful to be able to share this space with you and I hope that today's conversation brought you some insight and a sense of community. Remember, no matter what you're healing from, healing isn't perfect and every step you take does matter. If you enjoyed this episode, consider sharing it with someone who might need it, leaving a review, or subscribing on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts so that you never miss an episode. If you want to connect more, you can find me on Instagram at bite by bite recovery. I'd love to hear your thoughts, your stories, or just to say hi until next time. Let's keep taking life bite by bite. See ya.