Reflecting on ultra running and running AlUla Blaze
When you have hope, even in the face of hardship, you can do what seems impossible.
I'm Karis, a mother of two from Australia, a former lawyer, the wife of a good-looking Aussie, and a newbie to the world of ultra-marathons.
It wasn't always that way; in the past, I often hid behind masks out of concern that people would judge me harshly if they got to know the real me. Sharing (but not dwelling on) my hardships has given me hope it might help others overcome adversity and emerge stronger.
I still have trouble typing the label', "ultra-marathoner." I've always perceived Olympians or Marathon Major gurus as the epitome of true athleticism. I always assumed that if you called yourself a runner, you were a professional.
And I thought that to become a good runner, you had to be trained from a youngster by a pro coach.
I run for fun. Because I love it.
In the last year, my life has gone from recreational running to embracing crazy challenges and doing okay. The 2nd place in my first ever Ultra Trail Run 48K in February 2023 in Alula, Saudi Arabia, was a genuine surprise. Following this, coming 1st woman in the Lebanon Ultra 50 Trail Run in June 2023 was just as much a surprise. Until I crossed that finish line, I always felt that some woman would pass me at any moment.
I've done all kinds of running, from 5k road races to trails. But I'm hooked after being introduced to trails by the Trail Runners DXB community.
Running an Ultra is an emotional roller coaster from hilarious highs to depressive gutter-type moments where you must pull yourself up by the bootstrings and convince yourself it's worth the pain of perseverance. A myriad of memories, thoughts, feelings and emotions all flood your mind during those hours.
So, running has become a practical classroom - I've learnt more lessons here than any textbook (primarily through adversity). Here are my top 7 lessons -
- Don't see hardships as a disadvantage.
You shouldn't look at adversity as a bad thing. Painful, perhaps yes, but not bad.
The things that hurt the most might end up being the things that help you keep going. In fact, I am convinced that they allow you to live life more fully.
In the social media world, we force fake perfection. Struggles and pain are mostly concealed.
However, it is possible to learn through suffering, especially in running an Ultra Marathon. Perhaps you're facing a challenge right now; how you deal with it will determine who you become and how you approach those goals and dreams.
I can testify that a brain hemorrhage (after crazily diving into water from about 10m high) would have left me dead. But ironically, a benign brain tumour saved my life (long, complicated medical story).
That benign brain tumour was a gift that saved my life.
In addition, I have been in 7 car accidents, suffered the most excruciating nerve pain (trigeminal neuralgia), and lost all our possessions twice - once in a house fire and then in an evacuation in Arab Springs. (Thankfully, my wedding dress was under my friend's bed and saved from the fire).
Yet these painful experiences helped me become the person I am, and the runner I am.
I like listening to the stories of people as I run. It's been such a gift to learn from these people.
And I've discovered an interesting thing. MOST ultra-marathoners have a remarkable story about how they came to want to do such a crazy thing. And these stories are not riddled with success and prosperity; often, they are full of pain and adversity.
These painful experiences have shaped them into being more resilient runners.
I always think that once you've been through a valley in your life, it looks so much higher once you climb the next mountain.
Those challenging experiences give you grit, determination, and a kind of inner drive because you know you've been able to overcome obstacles before, and this, too, will pass.
This builds the type of character in a tough point of a race, helping you push through those pain points.
During an ultra, I have cried tears of pain and tears of joy; I've sung and prayed and ripped a toenail off mid-race. During the recent Desert Blaze Marathon, held in searing heat, I was going to quit about 19km from the end, suffering debilitating calf cramps, and suddenly legendary ultra-marathoner Perrine Fage came and found me, got out of a car and said, "Keep going, you can do this". That was the encouragement I needed.
And once that battle is over, the exhilarating emotion is indescribable when you cross that finish line.
2. Running is a gift; run as if it were your last
But everything changed in my running journey in 2021.
This moment of adversity was so significant it was like a switch turned on in my brain.
I will never forget that fateful night. And I will never forget the pain. Running in my neighbourhood, I felt strange but ignored it.
Suddenly, arriving home, I gripped the side of the chair and collapsed, struck by the most debilitating pain I have ever felt. The pain radiated through my head, down my jaw and felt like a knife had been driven into my skull. It was a paralysing pain so debilitating that I could not even groan in pain.
The episode lasted 20 minutes. For the next 4 weeks, these painful episodes continued randomly. Sometimes they would last for 4 mins, other times 20. I was diagnosed with trigeminal neuralgia - otherwise known as ‘suicide headaches’ (because many who suffer from this condition cannot endure them and sadly end their life).
My question to the neurologist after the diagnosis was, “Can I still run?”.
He looked back at me incredulous! Was this woman mad? His response was confused, “No, I don’t think so”.
Happy that this wasn’t a definitive, I asked, “Why not?”.
He said,” Well, what happens if you are having one of these episodes mid-run and collapse?”.
I replied, “Well, I guess I’d have to stop”.
He said, “That’s right”.
“So”, I continued, (the lawyer in me finding the loophole), “ I can keep running until I have to stop?”.
He hesitantly said, “Yes”.
And that was it!
That was my ticket to a new lease of life!
I went down to my local Al Khawaneej park and ran as if it would be the last run I would run. I cried at first, tears streaming down my face, thinking I would have to give up this passion and realising how much I loved it. The tears turned to smiles, and then pure joy as the wind brushed past me, and I ran faster and faster, pushing myself beyond what I thought I was capable of. And it felt good!
I had seen running as more of a chore but now realised it was a gift! It was a privilege. And I resolved that I would use this gift to bless others.
The bonus is that after stepping it up, the trigeminal neuralgia dissipated then disappeared.
3. Never lose the fun
Don't take running too seriously; set fun and exciting challenges and do something out of your comfort zone.
Set some fun training challenges.
My training was initially the most unstructured, hilarious training plan at my local park, Al Khwaneej: I would choose the fastest person I saw (usually a man), a complete stranger, and race them.
They often didn't realise this. Other times, they chose to race me. I was challenged randomly by a group of Shabab out for a leisurely stroll one night, challenging me to a race. This must have been a funny, strange scene to onlookers - their white Kandoora flying next to this crazy Australian.
One morning, I saw a fast guy running and thought, I'll race him, then stop when he stops! Unfortunately, he had the same idea, so the two of us ran around that track for 15 km at breakneck speed, until one of us gave up.
Funnily, several years later, that same person now trains with me with a group of other.
Whether you find a community group to run with or a park in your neighbourhood, don't take running too seriously. Learn to laugh at yourself and have fun.
4. Say yes to the impossible and ridiculous
My second resolution was to accept opportunities (open doors). I'd try something even if it seemed crazy!
Choose an unachievable goal, enter and train.
Then find a community to spur you on.
This mindset has driven me to sign up for ultra-marathons and enter national Kingfishing competitions (without fishing experience) and set mini-goals like a sub 20 – 5km. It also caused me to join a community trail running group, Trail Runners DXB. And most recently, saying yes to the “Alula Desert Blaze Marathon” in Saudi Arabia in the middle of summer.
But probably the craziest ‘yes’ was signing up for the Alula Ultra 50km 3 days before without ever running an ultra.
“Have you been training for this?” someone asked?
“No”, I replied, “but I’ve been racing guys in my park”.
Another asked, “What’s your fuelling plan?” I mumbled something. But embarrassingly in my head - I had no plan!
I would no longer live my life having regrets asking, “Maybe I ‘could’ have done that?”.
Because about 5 years ago, I had read about this beautiful place Alula.
Last year, I saw a race there and said to myself, “That would be my dream to run and visit that place!”. 2022 the race came and went, and I chickened out, thinking I wasn’t good enough for something like that.
I regretted letting the opportunity go.
But then fast forward, 2023, the same opportunity to go came up, only 3 days before the race. The visa only came through that day so I packed my bag that day and jumped on the flight - surprising myself at that level of spontaneity. I messaged my fellow trail runner Mohammed and asked him what distance he was doing. He said, “The 100km”!
I replied, “Oh no, I think I could only do 20km. I’ve never done an ultra before”.
He said, “Yes you can do it; enter the 50km you can do it easily!”.
I remembered the ‘yes’ commitment and thought “Why not?”!
2 hours of sleep, no dukan near my air B’n’B, so filling my bottles with tap water, I set out on that bus with the likes of 9 times MDS champion Rachid El Morabity and other experienced ultra-trail runners, feeling very intimidated by the line-up and all their gear.
I had stupidly purchased a poor-quality pair of shoes a few weeks before and realised on the bus my main bladder was leaking leaving me with only 2 X 250ml bottles!. My race plan was this - finish under 5.5 hours to catch my return flight that day. My fueling program was not structured (please don’t follow me here) - I just ate everything on offer at the feeling stations when I was hungry.
However, the experience was incredible, exhilarating and stunning! I sang through the mountains, ran down the dunes, suffered in the sand, tripped over on rocks, and ripped off my toenail.
At one stage, I turned back to see a long hair lady behind me and thought of my Khawaneej race training and stepped up the pace, leaving her behind.
I found out after the race that the ‘woman’ I was running from was ACTUALLY a long-haired man! This apparently put a considerable distance between me and 3rd place.
And that leads me to my next lesson –
5. Don’t run as an individual
I believe running is a team sport, not an individual sport.
That doesn’t mean you can’t have your space (and believe me, you get lots of space running ultras).
It also doesn’t mean that it is wrong to compete - running your best, in fact, often pushes others to run their best.
But, I believe there will be specific times in races where you feel a conviction in your spirit to put your own race aside and help someone else shine.
This happened at my lowest point in the Alula Ultra. It was around 30 km, and I had no sand gaiters (80% sand!). My toes were numb from sand compacting in my shoes. I was climbing through the mountains and hadn’t seen anyone for a long time. Out of nowhere, a man running in blue came up behind me and ran past me.
I don’t know what caused him to stop, but he reached the top of the rocky hill, turned around and said, “Do you want me to pace you?”. I said, “Sure”.
For the last 20kms, he encouraged me, helped bandage my bloodied toe, and taught me skills. Together, we navigated the most terrifying cliff edge when we got a little lost. When I said I couldn’t climb anymore, he said, “Yell at that mountain, ‘I will conquer you.’” So we yelled and ran, and at the top of each hill, he would stop and wait and turn and yell, “Run Karis!”.
During the last 500m, I said, “Bachir, you sacrificed your race today for me; I am not crossing that line before you; you must go first”. I tried to step back at the end, but he pushed me across that line ahead of himself.
I will never forget that lesson.
I came 2nd woman overall. But he should have been given a prize that day, not me.
6. Podiums are not the measure of success
Sometimes, podiums have become too much of a focus. Sadly, I sometimes hear of fights between friends, jealousy, and drama. I've seen people push friends over in races, and I've experienced people cease communication while chasing this podium at all costs. Even this week, hearing of divisions caused and accusations made between friends grieves me.
Yet that podium might only give you 5 minutes of fame and make you happy momentarily.
Don't get me wrong, I still think it's great to recognise the hard work and training of someone and honouring that is a good thing.
But, sometimes, there are so many accolades for those who get a podium that we forget others deserve a greater reward. Measures of character, feats of determination and defying the impossible.
Other aspects of running are more critical, and friendships are forged that last a lifetime.
I love how battling together through adversity unites diversity.
Race, religion and social class can be side-lined in a race.
Sometimes, there is pressure to post on social media the podiums, not the character.
Here are two stories and some of my best examples -
Recently, we went from Dubai to Lebanon Mountain Ultra. Samer lead the group and was also supposed to run. At the last minute, he was injured.
Yet despite this, he not only came but also selfishly served the team. For example, he went ahead at each aid station, encouraged us, supported us, found injured and lost team members and waited for the last person to applaud across the line.
He deserved the biggest trophy on that day.
Recently, when I signed up to judge Hyrox, I learned from a 60-year-old lady. Mid-race, she received a message saying her relative had passed away but insisted on completing between lunges. She said she had to "finish because of her team". Her teammate told me she lived through enormous difficulty this year and beat cancer!
That lady deserved the biggest trophy on that day.
She will never make the top 3 podium, but I will never forget her.
7. Never let fear of failure stop you
I’m a bit of a perfectionist. If I bake I want to make something extraordinary. If I work, I work hard. If I’m playing the piano, I want to strive towards excellence.
Yet sometimes this quality can hinder me. Maybe you are the same.
You can be your own worst enemy if you fear failure.
It stops you taking risks.
But if you don't risk failure, you will never try anything.
There is no win or lose; you win or you learn.
If you fail, get up, learn a lesson, move on and sign up for some other crazy challenge!