I have broken a collarbone; gotten a bruise 18 inches long; destroyed (one at a time) almost every part on my bicycle; hit an armadillo and ridden to 90 miles with a 20 mile head-wind in the final 10 miles. I've been happy pretty much every time even through some of these incidents, often because I had other riders with me.
I totally get that. I played soccer. The exercise was incidental to my need to play with my friends and team-mates. When Father Time finally forced me to quit I had to go on anti-depressants. Soccer was my drug.
I don't intend to live forever.