There are times when I question myself as to why in a shitty hell, do I exercise? It is painful and time consuming. When such thoughts hit my mind, I take a quick look in the mirror directly. Favorably, the resulting image is pleasing and admirable; I am like: oh yeah, keep pumping in and out dude.
The ultimate aim of exercising is to make one happy, through gained gains. Once that is achieved, all is well and fine, in the world of a fitness junkie. The resulting adrenaline rush is not meant for evil, but a drug fix for boosting morale. And nothing clears a mind like exercising.
