I went into the Boston Marathon not knowing what to expect. It was my second marathon and I am still figuring out the science of it all. Needless to say, I was nervous, but also excited for the unknown. Everyone told me it was an experience I would never regret- I can know look back and say it was one of the best moments of my life.

The night before the marathon, I felt like a child trying to sleep on Christmas Eve. I had so much excitement that it was hard to relax. My alarm went off at 6 AM and I popped right out of bed. I had no idea what to do- just that I needed to get to the buses at the park. The whole morning was a blur. The race is so incredibly well organized that everything fell into place. I pinned on my number, tied my shoes, grabbed my coffee and my bag and headed out the door. I made friends with some fellow runners as we walked to the park and they gave me their best advice. It seems as though everyone who has done it has some tidbit that can make a difference in your race, and everyone is so willing to share their knowledge, because everyone who has done the Boston Marathon seems to have a common bond. I looked in awe at the lines as everyone was piling onto the bus. I felt such an amazing sense of camaraderie with all of these strangers, as we were all headed to the same place. I soaked it all in, not wanting to miss a moment. On the bus, we were stuck in traffic, so several hundred people were popping in and out of the bus to make a trip to the woods to relieve themselves. There was not left to the imagination, but no one was offended or embarrassed. We all had the common understanding that the typical dignity one has goes out the window on race day, and you just do anything you can to make yourself comfortable for your race. We finally pulled into the athletes village and my mouth dropped. I heard the race was huge, but you cannot even begin to imagine it until you see all of the athletes gathering in one spot. The amazing thing was that these 28,000 people felt like family. We were all in it for different reasons, but had one common goal. To run a marathon.

A marathon brings you to the very essence of who you are. It takes everyone to the very core of their being. A person's true character shines during a marathon. Everyone hurts, but everyone wants to ignore that pain to finish the race, and bring as many people as they can with them to the finish line. It wasn't as if we were racing one another; we were helping one another achieve our dreams. I teared up more than once during the race. Not for my own pain, but for others. It seems as though running a marathon puts a physical feeling to emotional pain. There were those out there running for their children battling cancer, for a recently passed father or mother, or for their own illnesses. You see their shirts with their tributes on them, and you forget about your pain in that moment. And you realize that this marathon is much more than a marathon. It is people's way of moving forward, of moving on, of putting their troubles behind them, but never forgetting those that they love. Everyone has a story. Everyone has a mantra. That is the beauty of the marathon.

As I crossed the finish line, I smiled with relief and with pride. I had done it! Along with 21,900 other amazing athletes that can call themselves a marathoner. It is a proud group to be a part of, and I am thankful I belong to it. I watched every last person cross that line; some smiling, some with faces contorted with pain and anguish. But there is nothing that compares to crossing the finish line at a marathon. Whether you hurt or whether you feel pretty good, everyone feels relieved. Because when you start 3, 4 or even 5 hours before, there is always that doubt of whether or not you will finish, because a lot can go wrong in that time. But so much can go right. And I felt the pride that I felt for myself for every single person that crossed that line.

I wore my marathon jacket with pride around the airport the next day, with countless others parading around in their blue and black Boston attire. People would come up and show their respect, or tell their of their own experiences of a time they had run the Boston.  Whether they had run fast, slow, finished or not, everyone's stories had one thing in common: Nothing beats Boston. Nothing compares to Boston. If you have a chance to go, do it. You will not regret it; it is something every marathoner should experience. To those who ran it- be proud and congratulations!