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CARLY THORNTON, 27, THOUGHT SLOGGING IT OUT ON THE TREADMILL AT THE GYM FOR 18 HOURS A WEEK MIGHT BAG HER A BOYFRIEND. INSTEAD IT HAD THE OPPOSITE EFFECT…

By Helen O’Brien

Sweat poured down my face and my legs burned with the exertion, but I forced myself to keep pounding the treadmill.

As the adrenaline pumped through my body, I gritted my teeth and increased the speed once more.

I’d been in the gym for nearly three hours, just like the day before. And the day before that.

I should have finished earlier but there was no point going home because there was no one to cosy up to on the sofa.

Just like my previous two boyfriends, Luke* – who I’d been dating for a year – had left me because of my obsession with exercise.

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After a bitter argument, one boyfriend had told me: ‘You love the gym more than you love me.’ And it was true.

Ironically, I’d joined a gym to lose weight and find love. I was 21, a size 16, and 14st – far too heavy for my 5ft 7in frame.

I’d always avoided exercise but when my friend Samantha said joining a gym might get me a boyfriend, I gave it a go.

In 2002 I joined one near my home in Billericay, Essex. I worked out for two hours, three times a week. After a year, I’d lost 3st.

Seeing my body becoming lean and toned was addictive. I was going to the gym every day. I worked as a carer and I changed my shifts to nights so I could work out in the day. Soon I was a size 8-10 and 10st.

‘Surely now I’ll be able to get a man,’ I told myself. But there was one problem.

My exercise addiction meant I had no time to go out with friends – they’d given up nagging me about it and we’d drifted apart – so I never met any men.

So it was no surprise that when I found love, at the age of 22, it was at the gym. I got chatting to Mark, 26, by the exercise bikes and we started dating.

But he wasn’t as dedicated as me, and my addiction drove a wedge between us.

It was on holiday in Majorca that things came to a head. ‘I thought we could go out to eat tonight,’ Mark smiled.

My breathing sped up in panic. ‘I was going to go for a run along the beach actually,’ I replied. He was disappointed but I couldn’t help it.

By now I had a full-blown addiction. When I missed one of my six-times-a-week sessions – 90 minutes of cardio then another 90 minutes of weights and boxing – I felt down and was convinced I’d put on weight.

I was already sure I’d got flabby since we’d been away.
I only eat light, healthy meals like salads, so the thought of something heavy at a restaurant in Majorca horrified me.

Not long after the holiday, when we had been together for three years, Mark left the gym – and me.

I pounded the treadmills to get over it and a few months later I met Stuart in the gym. But he couldn’t take my addiction and a year later we split up.

Luke, 29, was my third gym-member boyfriend. I met him in 2006 and was with him for a year.

It was the same old story. One night I told him I couldn’t make a date because I was busy.

But later on I did see him – in the gym. It was the end of another relationship, thanks to my obsession.

But I don’t regret it. Any man who wants me to choose them over the gym doesn’t understand me.

That’s why I want to date a bodybuilder. They’re the only people as dedicated as I am.

I weigh 10st and I admit I’m paranoid about becoming overweight again.

But I’ve worked too hard for my toned body to give it up – I just hope I meet a nice man who gets to see it too.

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Credits

Photography: Amit Lennon Hair and Make-Up: Oonagh Connor at Minx
*names have been changed