Two years ago, I started training a lot. As in working out for a good two hours every single day and tracking every calorie that went into my body kind of a lot.  I knew every food item's nutrition facts like the back of my hand, and planned what I was having for breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks for days ahead. I would have these epiphanies once a month where I'd try to prove to myself that I could still indulge every now and then but the moment I'd have a cookie, I'd feel an insane amount of guilt. I'd work out double my usual time for the next few days and question how much control I really had over my lifestyle. Over a silly cookie.