I'm an effing idiot.

I really can't believe how stupid I am. 

I royally f*cked up.

The Friday before my the Chicago Marathon, I took the Green Line into the city to pick-up my race packet. While I love public transportation and I love seeing Chicago, I had never been on the Green Line before. My lovely aunt offered to drive me from her home in Elmwood Park to McCormick Place, but I knew the traffic would be awful getting into the city and getting out of the city, so we compromised, and she drove me to a train stop. 

We hugged.

I thanked her.

She gave me a $20 bill.

I reminded her I was 32 and not 12, but she insisted, so I put it in my pocket. 

My aunt reminded me to be careful.

 

I grabbed my backpack and my luggage from her trunk,

 

and I hopped onto the Green Line.

I didn't know exactly which stop I was supposed to get off at, but I knew that Bronzeville was too far. Had I been listening, I'd have heard the announcement telling me to get off the train at McCormick Place!

Nope, I am effing idiot.

 

I was busy being really dumb and scrolling on social media. 

 

And I got to Bronzeville, saw myself amongst a bunch of college kids, and realized my dumb mistake.

Alright.

 

I grabbed my backpack and luggage,

 

stepped off the train, and waited for the next one. Luckily I wasn't in a rush!

 

The train arrive to the McCormick Place stop and I was in one piece. 

 

Phew.

 

I grabbed my backpack and luggage,

 

and started to make the short walk to McCormick place.

 

I met up with my Atlanta Running Club friends at the Expo! 

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And then I headed to the back to pick up my bib for the race and my t-shirt.

They put them in a plastic bag for me, 

a bag I could use to check my items at the race,

and I walked around the Expo for a bit collecting goodies and putting them in the bag,

and then realized,

oh shit,

I hadn't been paying attention again, time got past me, and I would need to skiddadle to meet my friend for lunch. I wouldn't be able to take a train because I had waited too long.

I'd have to get in an Uber. Ugh.

So much money on transportation.

 

Ok, ok, Uber pool will do it. Save a little cash.

 

I grabbed my backpack and luggage and my new running bag,

 

and

 

I hopped into the Uber and was on my way to Lincoln Park. The Uber driver picked up another passenger, and so I moved my 3 bags to the back of the car and I moved over to the left side. Ah, the new rider sat in the front seat.

 

It was a stressful drive, and I worried I F-ed up again and would be late for lunch with my friend.

 

Why didn't I just get a regular Uber and not an Uber Pool? 

 

Idiot.

 

Why didn't I just leave my aunt's house earlier in the morning and then would have had enough time to take the train?

 

Idiot.

 

The Uber driver dropped off the second rider, and we were now on our way to Lincoln Park.

 

Phew.

 

We chatted about the marathon. He told me he was from Ethiopia, and that while everyone thinks Kenya has the fastest runners, it's really Ethiopia. I told him how I was from Atlanta, and we both complained about how bad the traffic is there.

 

And then we were in Lincoln Park! I was only a minute late to meet my friend.

 

Small idiot move.

 

My Uber driver reminded me to grab my bags. He told me he had dropped off a passenger to the airport earlier this week who had left her luggage. We joked about it, I thanked him for the ride, told him that next time I was in Chicago, maybe he would be my Uber driver again!

 

I grabbed my backpack and luggage,

 

hopped out of the car, and began to walk across the street to meet my friend

 

when I realized it.

 

What an effing idiot I am and have been all day.

 

 

I had grabbed my backpack and luggage,

but I had not grabbed my new running bag.

The bag I moved when the new rider got into the Uber.

The bag I had gotten at the Expo.

The bag that had my Chicago Marathon tshirt and goodies.

Most importantly, the bag that had the race bib in it.

The race bib I had trained for 18 weeks to wear.

The race bib that I could not get another one of.

The race bib that cost $200 by itself. Let's not even add up all the other costs to running this race.

 

I had grabbed my backpack and luggage,

 

 

 

but I freaking left the bag that I needed for the marathon.

 

I opened my Uber app and tried to figure out how to call my Uber driver. I know in the past I have texted the driver. There has gotta be a way to text him again. I don't take Ubers very often. I drive everywhere in Atlanta.

 

I don't know how to use this app.

 

I raced into the restaurant and then greeted and hugged my friend because I think it's important to give love to someone before asking/demanding them do something for you.

 

And then I asked/demanded she help me.

 

I am an effing idiot.

 

Please figure this out. Please. I'm an effing idiot. Please solve this.

 

She found where to contact the driver.

 

No answer.

 

I tried again. 

 

No answer.

 

FCKKKKKK. This is what always happens to me. I do sh*t like this all the time. I have something great happen in my life and then I do something to sabotage myself. I freaking mess up things for myself.

 

I'm an effing idiot.

 

I can't believe I just trained for this race and flew into Chicago for this race and now I won't be able to even run it.

 

I'm an effing idiot. I just want to cry and scream and force myself into a panic attack and let the whole world know how shitty this situation is.

 

After an hour of waiting, I finally get ahold of the Uber driver. Thank goodness.

 

I grabbed my backpack and luggage,

 

and I hopped into another Uber and go all the way north to Rogers Park to retrieve my running bag.

 

Once I had my hands on the running bag, I let out a huge sigh of relief, and then I remembered what an idiot I am.

 

I walked to a Starbucks to calm myself down and figure out what the F I am going to do now. I had planned to spend the day in the city, and now I am at the northernmost edge of the city, I've spent a ridiculous amount of money, and I have a pounding headache.

 

I decide to just stay in Starbucks and basically waste my day way.

 

I'm an idiot.

 

I flew in from Atlanta to Chicago and basically just took a whole week's worth of money and threw it in the trash on this day.

 

 

I had plans to meet another friend for dinner, but my pounding headache from all my idiot moves did not go away, so I canceled dinner. 

 

And

 

I sat in the Starbucks for almost 2 hours.

 

It was a waste of a day.

 

 

 

 

Have you ever thought about your own day this way? 

Talking to yourself like you're a complete idiot?

Talking to yourself in a way that does not help the situation?

Don't worry guys, I didn't actually talk to myself this way, but this IS the way I used to talk to myself before I started doing all this inner work... and before I started running.

 

My favorite author Jen Sincero said this in her book You Are a Badass:

 

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If we walk around saying we are idiots when one tiny thing goes wrong, you better believe a million things are going to go wrong. 

 

And also, you better believe you end up missing all of the other things that went right.

 

Because you are training yourself to only see the shitty things happening and not all the other awesome things happening.

 

 

A follow-up / alternative version of this story will be on the blog soon.

 

 

I think you will like that one more.

 

<3 Jaclyn

 

 

ps. Don't miss out on Meal Prep University!

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