I used to do this thing called "sober thoughts on a birthday," which was ironic because I wasn't usually sober. I'd write what amounted to a State of My Life - how were things going, where were things going and what did I think about it. The ritual was born at Kate Sessions Park in San Diego, probably with a Santana's burrito by my side.
As my time spent (not) sober has dwindled as I have gotten older, the tradition waned, although I have always retained my birthday as a day of reflection and meditation. Without a doubt, the worst part of my birthday is fielding calls from friends and families sending me good wishes. Selfish, I know, so I muddle through and endure the love.
I don't have a ton of regrets in life. Those that nag at me tend to be specific decisions at specific points in time rather than "I wish I did [fill in the blank] more (or less) than I do." I wish I hadn't picked up trail running when I was pushing 30, with no appreciation that after 10 years of atrophy, my old running muscles may be a bit rusty and a bit more rickety than expected.
The flip side, of course, is that I am glad I discovered it at 30 rather than 60. Perhaps the new tradition will become "sober runs on a birthday." Today's was sobering, in any event, and made me really wish I had those studded trail running shoes I have so long coveted.