90 Kilometers Across Qatar: Running East to West for a Cause

Some challenges are 2scott2handle even with a plan. Running 90 kilometers across an entire country with dysentery, no support crew, and a pack full of uneaten gels? That was not in the plan. But the Qatar East to West Ultramarathon on December 5, 2025, taught me that the best-laid strategies sometimes dissolve in the desert heat, and that strangers can become your greatest allies when they do.

The Mission

The Qatar East to West Ultramarathon is one of the longest single-stage races in the Middle East: 90 kilometers from Sheraton Park on the Doha Corniche to Dukhan Beach on Qatar's western coast. Over 1,500 runners from 88 countries lined up for the 8th edition of this race, which cuts straight through Qatar's desert interior before reaching the coast.

I registered as an individual runner. No team. No support vehicle. No one waiting at aid stations with a familiar face. The only person I knew in the entire country was Majed, a future INSEAD classmate I had met just the day before. This race would be a solo mission in every sense.

But this race was about more than just crossing a finish line. Earlier in the year, after completing the Grindstone 50km ultramarathon in the Shenandoah Mountains, I committed to donating one dollar for every kilometer I ran for the remainder of 2025 to The Humane League, an organization working to reduce the suffering of animals in our food system. Being an ultra runner means being an ultra eater, and that got me thinking about where our food comes from. The Qatar East to West would be the capstone of that pledge: 90 more kilometers, 90 more dollars, and hopefully some inspiration for others to contribute as well.

The Start: Sheraton Park, 0500 Hours

The pre-dawn air at Sheraton Park carried a pleasant chill. At 0500, we set off into the darkness along the Doha Corniche, headlamps bobbing like a river of fireflies streaming west.

The first ten kilometers felt almost social. I fell into conversation with two fellow runners, one from the UK and the other from Portugal. We traded stories about past races and shared that nervous excitement unique to the opening miles of an ultra, when your legs feel impossibly fresh. These early conversations are one of my favorite parts of ultrarunning: total strangers bonded by the shared decision that running the equivalent of two marathons through the desert qualifies as a good time.

The Desert: Where Plans Dissolve

In the military, we say no plan survives first contact with the enemy. In ultrarunning, no nutrition plan survives first contact with your stomach.

I enter every ultra expecting that some unexpected obstacle will test me. Some races this obstacle might be a twisted ankle or debilitating cramps. This time, the enemy was dysentery. It announced itself early and without mercy.

At the first two rest stations, I made immediate detours to the restrooms, mercifully housed in permanent buildings. I managed these pit stops with minimal time lost and rejoined the course with my dignity mostly intact. But around kilometer 27, deep in the open desert with the temperature climbing, the urgency returned. This time, there were no buildings. No trees. Not even a bush. Just flat, endless sand in every direction.

I tried to mentally ignore the discomfort for five kilometers, employing every psychological trick I had learned in the Army. It was futile. I eventually surrendered, detouring left behind a sand dune for what privacy the terrain could offer. The cost of this unplanned stop: my neck gaiter, sacrificed to necessity just as the sun began to assert its full authority over the course.

The Kindness of Strangers

The middle kilometers of any ultra are where races are truly run. The excitement of the start has faded, and the finish line exists only as an abstract concept. This is where you meet yourself.

By kilometer 70, I was meeting a version of myself I did not particularly like. Despite my emphasis on nutrition and hydration planning, I had fallen critically behind my fueling strategy. I would not discover until after the race, emptying my pack at the hotel, that three energy gels had been hiding at the bottom, untouched fuel that could have made those final twenty kilometers significantly less miserable.

Moving into the last rest station, my pace deteriorated to an alternation between a slow shuffle and a determined speed walk. Each step felt like negotiating with gravity. Then, about 200 meters from the station, a complete stranger ran up beside me. Without introduction, he handed me a gel and offered the kind of direct, no-nonsense motivation that cuts through the fog of exhaustion.

This moment crystallized what made the Qatar East to West extraordinary. Throughout the 90 kilometers, countless strangers offered unsolicited sodas, snacks, and water bottles along the route. These good samaritans were lifesavers for a solo runner attempting this race without any dedicated support. In the military, we learn that the biggest challenges require everyone to work together. I went into this race alone, but I did not finish it alone. Runners and spectators from dozens of countries carried me across that finish line through small acts of generosity that collectively made the impossible feel achievable.

Beyond the Race

One of the unexpected rewards of traveling to Qatar for this race was the opportunity to explore a country I had never visited. In the days surrounding the race, I visited the Museum of Islamic Art and the National Museum of Qatar, both stunning institutions that deepened my appreciation for the region's history and culture. I also caught an Arab Cup match, experiencing the electric atmosphere of Qatari football fandom. My host for the trip, Majed, whom I had only just met, embodied the same hospitality that the strangers on the course had shown me. His generosity set the tone for an unforgettable week.

Running for The Humane League

This race was also the culmination of a commitment I made months earlier: to donate one dollar for every kilometer I ran for the remainder of 2025 to The Humane League. Their work focuses on reducing the suffering of animals in our industrial food system through corporate campaigns, legislative advocacy, and public education.

The connection between ultrarunning and animal welfare might not seem obvious, but it is direct. To be an ultra runner, you have to be an ultra eater. The sheer caloric demands of training for and completing races like this one force you to think seriously about food: where it comes from, how it is produced, and what suffering it may involve. By the end of 2025, this pledge raised nearly $1,000. If you are inspired to contribute, I encourage you to visit The Humane League's website and consider supporting their work.

What's Next

The Qatar East to West capped an extraordinary year of endurance challenges: from the Grindstone 50km in the Shenandoah Mountains to 90 kilometers across a desert nation, followed by the Abu Dhabi Marathon just one week later. As I begin my MBA at INSEAD, new challenges await:  different terrain, different stakes, but the same commitment to pushing limits and running for something larger than a finish time.

What causes are you running for? Share your thoughts in the comments below, or visit The Humane League to learn more about reducing animal suffering in our food system.