Regret Olympics

Recently a friend and I were discussing how successful we would be if regret were an Olympic sport. This probably should have been a sign that it is time to do some hard emotional work, but instead I chose to spend a stupid amount of time imagining what the Regret Olympics would look like. Guess how I feel about doing that!

Anyway, enjoy, I guess.

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Welcome one and all to the thirty-third annual Regret Olympics! The opening ceremony will now commence with a collective discussion of what went wrong with last year's opening ceremony, who is to blame, and how that is ruining everything forever. Once we all feel appropriately regretful about all past activities, as well as rueful about engaging in this new discussion at all, the ceremony will conclude.

Festivities will be followed by competition in the following events:

Regret Long-Jump: Participants take turns leaping to more and more outragous conclusions about their self-worth after regretted actions. Did you make a mistake at work? You're clearly the most incompetent person at your organization! Everyone knows it, and they talk about it all the time. Miss an opportunity to be there for a friend? Don't worry, you were never a good friend - people only hang out with you out of pity, when they hang out with you at all. Did your parenting choice not work out as expected for your child? Clearly you're the worst parent in the universe. It's just you, Joan Crawford, and Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Congratulations! Participants are judged on the level of fantastical detail provided in each devaluation scenario, and the amount of sand-spray produced during landing.

Downhill Regret Slalom: Like snowballs, participants hurtle down a mountain collecting more and more outlandish anticipated consequences for recent mistakes. Every parenting mistake is bringing you one step closer to either a) accidentally killing your kid or b) raising a psychopath. A simple work error is definitely going to lead to getting fired, which will lead to bankruptcy, which will lead to living in your parents' basement in your mid-thirties. Did you snap at your partner in a moment of hangry weakness? Get ready for a trip to divorcetown! Unlike in standard slalom events, participants gain points for each time they plow heedlessly through a "gate" of realistic thinking. Warning: Downhill Regret Slalom pretty much always ends with at least one bone-crushing accident. Factor in recovery time accordingly.

Retro-regret luge: Select an irrevokable action from your distant past and climb aboard the sled of selective memory and hypothetical future! Ride the dips and curves of how awesome your life -- and the lives of those around you -- would be now and forevermore if only you had/hadn't done x, y, and/or z. If you had just nailed that one job interview, your career would be so much more advanced by now! You could totally already own that tastefully minimalist mid-century mansion you saw on that one blog by now if only you were better with your money in your twenties. And if only you had known the right thing to say that one time, you would have more friends and love in your life than you can possibly imagine! Isn't it fun to daydream? Participants gain points for staying completely prone while contemplating missed opportunities for perfect happiness, and lose points for noting all the glaring flaws on the course.

Partners Regret Dancing: Feel bad about something that wasn't entirely your fault? Grab your decision-making partner(s) and pull them into a spectacular shame spiral with you! Judges determine the winning pair/group based on synchronization of shared misery, relative danger of regret-induced choreography choices, and number of sequins per outfit. Dance programs should be performed with sharp blades strapped to feet; ice is optional.

Regret Marathon: Reserved for long-term, ongoing regrets. Participants spend 4+ sustained hours expounding upon the ways in which their actions/failures impact themselves and others negatively. Points are awarded for depth of feeling, willful ignorance of the passage of time, denial of all positive messages from body/brain, and relative shortness of running shorts. Bonus points are awarded for shitting your running shorts. This event is also known as the Regret Filibuster, or, if you're me, "Sunday night, 3 am."

Regret Decathalon: All of the above, but while holding a javelin.

And, finally:

High Dive into the Pool of Forgiveness: This is a mandatory closing ceremony for all participants who have competed in at least one Regret Olympics event. Participants climb ladders of their own despair and then plunge courageously into the deep, healing waters of self-compassion. All are advised to wear comfortable bathing clothes that are well-suited to revelations about the false promise of perfection, and the inherent worth and dignity of each and every human. Belly flops and cannonballs are welcome.