On indulgence.

I just ordered two dozen wings to be delivered to me.  When they arrive, I will sit on my couch and methodically eat them, one by one, well beyond when I am comfortable with myself.

What is it that drives us to do terrible things to our bodies?  Why do we exercise until we vomit, or drink until we vomit, or do pretty much any activity where vomiting marks the end of said activity?  Is it a matter of testing our limits, like at an all-you-can-eat rib joint?  Or is it a sense of indulgence, a need to sublimate our pride as we push ourselves into realms where dignity dares not tread?

Or is it our cry for independence, us saying to the world "Yes, I am going to eat both of these cheesesteaks, and there's nothing you can do about it BECAUSE THIS IS AMERICA"?  Must we break the rules of common sense and decency periodically just to reaffirm our ability to?

I'm actually serious, guys.  Why do we do these things to ourselves?  I've spent the vast majority of my adult life being a hedonist and libertine, and I'm just now realizing I don't really know why.

Any ideas?