Ah, just let the anger push you beyond that hurdle. Again and again.

An hour on a treadmill, climbing no where quickly.

The only way to endure is a combination of NPR news/weather and information. But at the very end, when it's become stupid difficult, break out the "Hell's Bells."

Because nothing is quite as motivating as the Australian screeching "Hell's Bells...Satan's coming for you..." to keep you moving on the treadmill. Because if you stop, guess who is coming for you?

Not the nice little Indian lady on the treadmill to your left.

Or the nice little farty Asian lady on the treadmill to your right (please, remember, we can smell those, nice little lady. And if there is something wrong, you should probably either be in a less enclosed room, or at home.)

But then maybe the farts are supposed to evoke Satan more thoroughly. Kind of a multi-media piece. But I don't think she knows I am listening to AC/DC. Or angry.

So follow that up with "Immigrant Song," and you have the perfect denouement for the most evil workout I can come up with. Call it self-punishment. Paying of the dues. Righting the wrongs.