Half Marathon Is No Joke

Okay, now that my debut half marathon is a couple days behind me, I'm ready to analyze what went wrong.

I guess, in retrospect, it wasn't all that bad. I expected it to be hard, which it was. And I only really cared that I finished, which I did. But brother, I'm here to tell you. I was fully and completely crushed by the thing. As I crossed the finish line I was firmly resolved to never do any serious exercise again. Ever. So I'll die young and experience a diminished quality of life? Fair enough.

But I'm off the ledge now and actually feel committed again to trying to run a marathon next year. Which brings me back to what went wrong (you know, in the interest of learning, like):

1) I undertrained. I only got up to about 15k in my training runs, and not even that many of them. I was told that the extra k's wouldn't be that hard, but the tellers lied.
2) The damn hills. If I undertrained for the distance, I way undertrained for the hills. Like, didn't train at all. There's one long, gradual hill, probably about 3k, which you do twice. The first time crushed me. The second time left me a bitter, defeated shell of a man (which I mean in a fun, upbeat way).
3) The damn cold. It was freaking snowing at points. Parts of the road were icy. I couldn't feel my, well, anything. i couldn't feel a damn thing.
4) My common sense. If I'm doing something, by choice, that makes me want to puke, it seems instinctual to stop. I'm gonna have to work on defeating that particular instinct.
5) The chili was overrated. Can't really blame it for the race, but still. Disappointing.