"Hey yellow hat, kick some ass!"

That was the encouragement from a stranger I heard around the 5K mark of today's half-marathon race. And you know what? I DID. This girl, me in the yellow hat, kicked ass.

I had a fitful night of sleep, which I worried wouldn't bode well for the race. Though in bed by 11:30 (still kind of late), I woke up around 1:30 with an inexplicably itchy shoulder. I kept scratching and scratching. Some aloe helped.

At 5am, after fighting with the snooze button for 30minutes, my cousin phoned to say she was on her way to my house to pick me up. I reluctantly got out of bed, cursing the itchy shoulder some more. Put on my race clothes, which I am glad I laid out the night before. I scarfed down some Vector cereal, one of many mini boxes I grabbed during the expo.

By 6AM, we had arrived downtown, an hour ahead of the start time. Rather than hang out by the start line, we went to my office, which was five minutes away, and hung out there. I must have peed three times before heading out to the starting line.

Which is why I'm curious why I had to go during the race. My race strategy was to not stop for pitstops on my way to a 2:15 half-mary finish. But there was no way around this. Not long after I high-fived the spectating Frankie, I sent my cousin ahead (I mean, why should I ruin her race by making her wait for me) and told her I'd catch up. I didn't take into account how long I'd be in line for. An eternity ... especially when you're trying to play catchup afterwards.

The pitstop put me four minutes behind pace. So to make up for some lost time, I decided to just run continuously and forgo my regular 10:1 run/walk program... I felt I was capable, and partly because I needed to catch up to my cousin, who was holding my one energy gel. I don't know why I didn't pin it on myself, but I just figured we were running the whole thing together so I went without a fuel belt today. My pants do not have pockets. So maybe it's time to consider a different pair of running bottoms for the race. Not having a fuel belt was liberating. I depended on the water stations today, and it was enough.

Well, I felt I was making up some good ground. I was running at what I suppose is my race pace -- around 10min-11min/mile. Around the 7K mark, about 53 minutes into the race -- I saw the elite group of Kenyans (okay, there were probably other nationalities in that pack) and I woohooed them. Then I saw other elites. I saw one of the Jogglers, but not sure which one. I saw Ed "The Master" Whitlock, running hero to many, and the only person on the planet over 70 years of age to have run a marathon in under the magical 3 hour barrier. Today, at 75 years old, he set another world record, running the marathon in 3:08. Astounding.

Seeing these amazing runners over the next two kilometers was unbelievebly inspiring. I ran through water stations, taking the water on the go, and kept a keen eye out for my cousin. I started to worry about not having my gel, which compelled me to run a little bit faster. Which I think is okay because I don't push myself nearly enough during my training runs. And I was there to race.

As I approached the turnaround point, my cousin spotted me from the other side and ran across the median to hand me the gel -- bless her -- because I had been running for more than an hour now and it was time for a boost. But I had to wait with no water station for a little while longer. So I kept trying to push ahead to catch my cousin. At each kilometer marker, I was still behind pace, but had cut the gap to about 3-1/2 minutes, so that made me feel good.

Then the kilometers just melted away. One by one. I wasn't thinking about anything in particular, I had no music. I concentrated very hard on my breathing, and picked people out ahead of me as targets to pass.

I ran and I ran and I ran. At the 16K mark, I heard a woman comment to her running companion that all they had left was 5K -- the equivalent of their Monday night runs. "Piece of cake," she said to her partner. And that rang true with me. I buckled down and gunned harder to catch my cousin. There was a slight hill just before the 20K mark, and it didn't faze me (yay for hill training, however scant that has been!).

I was on a mission.

With determination building, I saw the 20K flag. I was close, so close to the finish line. I ran through a tunnel, thinking the whole way, "I can see the light at the end of this" ... and then I made the turn for the home stretch.

I briefly looked around for familiar faces -- my parents, Yumke, my aunt and uncle, Greg. I did see Yumke, who was perfectly situated about 300m from the finish line. I waved, and kept going. I was a speed demon. By this time, I had no interest in seeing any more familiar faces -- I could see the finish line, I could visualize myself crossing it. I was now narrowly focused, and started to pick more people off all the way to the finish line. It was a strong finish, and, yes, I was not just smiling when I crossed. I was beaming.

In the end, I didn't catch my cousin, but I nearly did. She finished 1min,17s ahead of me. My chip time: 2:18:40.

With today's finish, I did not have the feeling that I could do the whole distance again right then, but I did think I could run a few more miles. So, three more Sundays before show time. I think I can, I think I can ....