Running is a gift, racing is a privilege, and finishing a marathon is a blessing.

A year ago, no one was sure if I would be able to run again without getting hip surgery. When your doctor tells you marathons might not be in your future, your world shatters. Especially when it's a month before the marathon of your dreams.

I watched all my hard work go out the window. The pain in my hip was a constant reminder of the damage I had done to my body in order to prove to myself that I deserved to run Boston. All that time, I thought I was preparing myself to be the best runner I could be. I was teaching myself how to be a better person, a person who can find the light in almost any situation, something I was never able to do before.

I learned I had no control over what God was going to throw at me. You can't question Him. Whether you choose to believe in Him or not, for me, it was a way to take the weight off my shoulders. By believing it was in His hands, and in His timing, I would be able to run again. It was way longer than I had hoped, nearly seven months of back and forth. But finally, one day, I woke up and I ran without any pain.

13 months later, I can officially call myself a Boston Marathoner.

Here's the thing. My story is just one teeny tiny piece of a story much bigger than running itself. Yesterday was a celebration for not only the runners, but the supporters, the incredible volunteers, and the survivors of 2013. There is so much that goes into this marathon that makes it so special. Patriots Day in Boston is magical. There are no words that could possibly paint a picture of the atmosphere, but I'm going to try my best to do it justice.

I stood in line with the words, "labral tear don't care," written on my leg, in order to remind me why I was running. I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my face as I approached the start line. I tried to remain calm because the beginning of this course can really get the best of you. My heart has never felt so full.

I repeated, run without fear in your heart and doubt in your mind. I let my body decide the pace. I allowed my mind to carry me into a sea of positive thoughts. I knew the last half of the race was going to be complete torture. If anyone told me what I was about to endeavor, I would've never believed them. I truly underestimated the technicality and difficulty of this prestigious course, silly me.

I wasted a lot of energy interacting with the crowd, but I don't regret it. You only get one first Boston experience. Hearing people tell you to keep smiling and that you genially look happy is the nicest thing to hear from strangers who are giving away hours of their day to spectate.

I pushed through a lot of pains out there, but the one pain I never had to fight through was my hip. The thing that was my biggest fear was probably the only thing that held up for me.

Marathons prove to you your strength. You think you have nothing left in you, and you somehow drop your fastest mile on the way into the finish line. Then, there's the Boston Marathon.

The beast. The holy grail of marathons. It chews you up, it spits you out, it has no mercy; and yet, it's the best marathon ever.

Because of the little girls and boys wearing "future Boston Marathoner" shirts. Because of the history. Because of the bombings, and how the city still comes out every year to show how strong they are. Not just any strong, but Boston Strong.

When you make that right onto Hereford and left onto Boylston, nothing else matters. You realize just how small you are. You are just one piece of the puzzle. It is truly a humbling experience, from start to finish.

I'm so in awe of those who qualify year after year and give it their everything, despite how hard it is. I left a piece of my heart in Boston. I left it all out on the course; no blood, but lots of sweat and tears.

I didn't leave Boston with a PR or another BQ like I had always envisioned, but I left as a much different version of myself.

I may have a faulty hip and ran my second slowest marathon, but I am proud of myself. From thinking I'd never get the chance to run Boston, to now a 2019 Boston Marathon Finisher. Something I never thought I'd get the chance to say.

If I have to leave you with anything, let it be this. You are the only person who gets to decide what you are capable of.

Don't worry about proving anyone wrong. Get up and fight for what you want, time after time because you know what you can do. It's going to hurt like hell; it may even seem pointless. You're going to doubt yourself and feel like life's a never-ending uphill battle. But remember, you get to define your strength.

The hardest times aren't just meant to leave you scarred and feeling defeated. They're meant to teach you how to get up the hill, no matter how many times you have to stop to walk or how many times you want to quit.

Life is a mountain range. When you get to the top, look around, and take a deep breath in. You did it. Show the world your smile.

No one said becoming a unicorn would be easy, but it's oh so worth it.