A fair warning to all of you who've made it past the headline, which has been edited from something too dirty for OnMilwaukee.com (use your imagination) – this post was conceived during my run for the Summerfest Rock 'n Sole Half Marathon/10K on Sunday. The lack of water and extreme heat may have had something to do with this.

I'm not a runner by any means. An athlete, yes, but a runner, no. I find no enjoyment pounding the pavement and running long distances. That being said, I hate not meeting my personal goals more than I hate running. Which lead me to registering for the Rock N Sole half marathon.

Yes, I was hell bent on running 13.1 miles. As it turns out, I decided to drop down to the 10K (6.2 miles) because quite frankly – the weather forecast scared the crap out of me, and honestly, I didn't want to die.

The last time I ran at all was more than a decade ago – and that was on a soccer field. This was my first "organized" race ever. And I use the term organized very loosely here.

Expectations were high. I place a lot of pressure on myself to achieve my goals. But it became evident VERY quickly that there were obstacles outside of my control that would prevent me from running a safe race.

The following is a snapshot of my mental state while running:

• It's 85+ degrees out at 8:30 a.m. WTF am I doing running six miles in this sh*t? I'm going to die. I'm sweating through my clothes just standing here.
• Lora this is for you. Anne, this is for you, too.
• Man, this first hill is a pain in the ass already. It'd be easier to just turn around and go back to the car at this point.
• Excellent. In 1.5 miles I will be able to grab some water and keep on going. I can totally do this.
• Pretty much a gorgeous view from up here – looking up at the arch, to my left and right. This wind however, while it feels nice, could use a swift kick in the bits right now.
• What the hell. Where is the water? There's no way I could have passed it, could I? Maybe I can turn around and get some.
• Where's the f*cking water? This is not a joke. Where's the f*cking water. I just want a little water.
• Calm down Katie, just calm down and breathe. Keep breathing. There will be water just ahead. And maybe if I'm lucky some Gatorade.
• Why are there empty tables? Where are the volunteers? Why are the people in green shirts drinking water and there is none for me? What f*cking mile am I even on? Why didn't we turn around already, we passed the turn around point that was planned on the map?
• I feel my skin burning through my clothes. I'm sure the sunburn blisters are just chafing away right now. I should have put on more BodyGlide.
• I hate running so f*cking much right now. What I really want is two scoops of Kopp's Custard with a side of YoMama's frozen yogurt.
• I feel like I just peed myself. How is that possible? I know I had problems going this morning, but I really can't tell if I just went or not.
• Oh man, there are people cheering me on. They don't know me but they are telling me I'm doing a good job. Thank you. I needed that so much right now.
• Hell yes, there's a fire truck just a ahead, I bet they will have water for us, at least spraying us with water.
• F*ck. No water here at the turn around? No, this can't be right. They promised us there would be water every 1.5 miles. They promised us...
• Well sh*t. All I have is my piece of gum. So this saliva in my mouth is really water. It's really water. It's really water.
• Hey, there's Tarnoff. And there's Kristin. And there's Rachael. OK they are still OK, but I need to tell them there's no water.
• Holy f*ck, there are people hitting the pavement. People are collapsing. What do I do? How can I help? Where are the medical people? Everyone is screaming.
• Why is there an ambulance coming toward me – I'm running. There is a barricade. Why aren't they driving on the other side of that?
• What happens if I fall? Would there be anyone to help me? Would I die up here? I'm so thirsty. Really thirsty. What I wouldn't do for some water right now. I'll share, I won't be greedy. Please, I would just like some water.
• Hey, that's a dead bird. I hope I just didn't step on it. I heard a crunch.
• Oh God, I hope that woman is OK. Her color looks funny. And she can't sit up. Please, let her be OK.
• So that's what a mile marker looks like (at mile 5). Funny, I didn't see one on the other side.
• Oh my God, I think there's water, there's commotion to my right up there. No, I'm just imagining things.
• I really do not know what's going on right now. I feel out of control.
• Water. There is water. Give to me now.
• OK, almost done. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
• Seriously, where the hell is the finish line? This is taking forever and I want to be done with this.
• Why are there so many people just standing around? How do I get through here? Please can someone give me water, or Gatorade? Why won't anyone hand me some? I'm dizzy and need to lie down. Where are my friends? Please can someone help me?

The last thing I remember was crying, and then opening my eyes and was already lying down. First thing after that, I got my phone and let the venom fly on Twitter. I didn't hold back. I understand that this was year one for a race, and I understand there are things to improve on, or might not be perfect. But the one thing you DON'T SCREW UP is the hydration of the runners.

For the organizers to "miscalculate" or "underestimate" the amount of water needed on the Hoan – on an 80-plus degree day – with a total of 6.2 miles there – is gross negligence, and there is simply no excuse worthy. I'm not good at math, but I sure as hell would have gotten THAT number right.

For my first ever race, I'm left with this thought: Why would I ever run another race if this is how the runners are treated? Not everyone is a professional runner.

No wonder why I hate this sport.