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 a mirror directly. Favorably, 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 a world of a fitness junkie. Resulting adrenaline rush is not meant for evil, but a drug fix for boosting morale. And nothing clears a mind, like exercising.