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I have something called exercise bulimia, which is where you rid of your calories by over-exercising.

The problem with writing a book about bulimia is that whenever you go to the washroom, people think you're throwing up.

I'm a former bulimic myself and it's a horrible, horrible addiction.

I think by planning an exercise regime, your diet follows to some extent.

To enjoy the glow of good health, you must exercise.

I'll exercise in spurts, usually inspired by a dress that I have to fit into. But once that gown is squeezed into, if I continue to exercise, I get sick or I pull my back. For some reason my body literally rejects exercise.

I spent my childhood eating. The only exercise I got was trying to twist off the cap of a jar of mayonnaise.

Exercise is like an addiction. Once you're in it, you feel like your body needs it.