I used to fear road trips; I’d avoid them at all costs. I knew that I was missing out on stunning new scenery and timeless memories, but I still forego travel. It wasn’t the usual fears that plagued me—driving, bears, the unknown—I was worried about whether or not I’d have a gym to sweat at. I was fretting about breakfast: Would it be healthy enough? Would I get enough protein? Would I have to—heaven forbid—miss a workout? That’s right: it was a fear of losing fitness.

As someone who spent many years battling disordered eating habits (binge, purge,

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