If I had my way, the gym loudspeaker would play this every time I walked out of the locker room and into the treadmill area. Onlookers would stop their workout and stand in awe of my majestic form striding languidly but purposefully and powerfully toward my belted steed. Slowly, ever so slowly, I would approach the mill, enter my workout coordinates, grip the support bar after giving it a slow motion wipe down, and press start. Then I'd frickin' jog. Jog like a mother*$%#er.

Imagine it. I dare you.