Joy

On Saturday, after my very long Friday, I didn't plan to run with my friends. I have managed to skip the entire month of January and was well on my way to avoiding February runs outside as well. Then I blinked my eyes to focus on the clock which read 5:50ish. I wanted to go back to sleep. I was still wrung out like a dishcloth from that full day of swimming and basketball, plus I had three classes worth of essays to grade by the next day.
I made a deal with myself that I would try to fall asleep until 6:10. If I was still awake, I'd get up and meet my friends at the halfway point. When the cat landed on my head, the clock read 6:09. Sigh. Might as well get up.
I always enjoy running with my friends. It's the cold and the tired that I could do without.
At the end of the run, 3.75 miles since I only ran half, I broke into a sprint. I loved stretching out my (admittedly) short legs and feeling the muscles lengthen from my calves to my butt. At the end of a sprint, I can feel my heart soar. I want to lift my arms in the air Rocky style and cheer.
Sprinting at the end of a run brings me joy.
That's what I wanted to ask you: what brings you joy?
Not the kind of quiet, awe-struck joy that you may get from watching the sky turn pink in the morning or seeing a heron wading in the river, but the joy you feel when you want to punch your fist into the air and scream: "Yes!!" A jubilation kind of joy.
Sprinting is not the only thing that gives me this kind of joy. When I finish grading all of the essays waiting in the queue, well, I'm exultant.
And a hot, milky espresso mixed with chocolate can also give me that "I can accomplish anything" kind of joy.
Watch out world if I ever manage to finish grading all of my papers, go for a run that ends in a sprint and follow it up with a mocha.