4:45 a.m. came awfully early this morning...

Timeline of my race:

8:45 p.m. Night before the race: the "team" (Michael, our neighbor/friend/fellow running maniac Victor, my brother Keith, his friend Ben) and I spend a significant amount of time getting our race numbers appropriately centered and attached to our running clothes and attaching our timing chips to our shoes. We go through a dress rehearsal of what we're wearing and why we're wearing it. It's a successful venture. We all feel ready for the next day.

4:45 a.m. There's my alarm. I was sound asleep in dreamland. WHY OH WHY did we sign up for this type of torture? Sadly, the true torture hasn't even begun.

5:00 a.m. Slam some breakfast, Diet Coke, and water.

5:15 a.m. In the car with Keith & Ben (who looks an awful lot like Zac Efron, would you know?) We're following Michael & Victor downtown. No traffic! We're golden!

6:00 a.m. On the shuttle bus to the start line! SCORE: there is a bathroom on the bus!!! I will gladly use this facility and avoid the port-o-potty line. Have you seen the lines for those things?

6:30 a.m. Well, we made it to the start line, but I have to go to the bathroom again. Dang! OK, off to stand in the line. Keith and I size everybody up in the line around us--wondering who we'll be passing and who will be passing us.

6:55 a.m. I finally make it into what has to be the NASTIEST portapotty known to man. I am serious--it was rank. Hold your breath, hold your breath, hold your breath......break out!!! Now, a mad dash to the start line.

7:00 a.m. The Carter Twins sing the national anthem. The funniest sight I saw all day was the huge crowd of people in line to go to the bathroom standing at attention during this sacred moment of Americana.

7:01 a.m. BANG! And they're off. They are--not me. I am in corral 14 and will have to wait about a half-hour until my group is sent off.

7:25 a.m. I cross the start line!

Mile 1: MAN, it's hot.

Mile 2: Well, hello hill! I must remember to apologize to my guys--I told them Miles 1-2 were downhill. I grossly misrepresented the race course. This is VERY hilly!

Mile 3: Water station ahead! Cytomax is gross. Where's the gatorade?!? I appreciate a little Gatorade when I'm needing some electrolyte therapy. I'd rather pass on the Cytomax, but will have to make do, at least for the next 10 miles.

Mile 4: Hey! There's my friend Micah! Wish she were running with me. Darn her IT Band.

Mile 5: I guess I was in the zone. I don't remember much here.

Mile 6: Still in the zone.

Mile 7: Hmmm. Wonder why my achilles is talking to me? What's it saying? I'm doing my best to ignore it because I'm sure it's not good news.

Mile 8: MICAH!!! There she is again! What's she holding out there for me--what is that? I can't quite see.....must get closer.....It's Gatorade!!!! Oh mercy, it's Gatorade! Micah is my Angel of Electrolytes. I can carry on!!! Only 5 miles to go.

Mile 9: Zone.

Mile 10: OK. I am so done. Not digging the race anymore. This is not fun and I hurt. My legs are sore. My achilles hurts. My brain is fried. AND IT'S HOT. It had to be 80 degrees at this point. DONE. At this moment, I started telling myself..."it's 30 more minutes. That's it. In 30 minutes, you will never have to run another minute in your life if you don't want to. Just finish these 30 minutes and you can hang up your racing shoes for life. Just 30 more minutes. You can do anything for 30 minutes." But I didn't much believe myself. I didn't think I could do it for 30 minutes, but on the flip side, I knew I would want to run again. Just not anytime soon.

Mile 11: I started talking to random people at this point and trying to find someone interesting to talk to. ACHES AND PAINS. My legs were screaming.

Mile 12: ONE MORE MILE. Cytomax still tastes gross and I am convinced that I really won't ever WALK again, much less run again. WHY IS THERE A DARN HILL IN THIS RACE AT MILE 12?!? Who's great idea was it to put a hill at mile 12?!?

Mile 13: I can see the finish!!!

2 hours, 12 minutes is my time. I am more than pleased. I ran it in 2:15 last year and was hoping for 2:10, but 2:12 is just fine with me, considering the torture I felt from Miles 10-13.

Want to hear something just delightful now? THEY HAD OREOS IN THE FINISHER'S VILLAGE. Oreos, people. O-R-E-O-S. And the heat of the day finally came in handy for something--the cream inside the oreos was soft and warm like a cookie right out of the oven. It was delicious.

I found my team of guys and we all exchanged battle stories. Ben schooled us all--this was his first half-marathon and he killed it! He finished in 1:32 or something close to that.

And, that's the story of my race today!

Does anybody know where I can find a discount code for early registration for next year's race?