I was in fifth grade attending a small school in the village in which I was born, in Syria. A group of running coaches from the big city nearby came and asked our class and others to gather in the courtyard. They told us that the last five boys to stop running would qualify to be on the regional running team and potentially compete on a national level. I got excited even though I didn’t have any running experience. I thought if I focused and pushed, I would make it. We lined up and one of the coaches, wearing a funny tracksuit, blew the starting whistle. We started running. Almost everyone got ahead of me and I was the first one to stop running. I was disappointed and angry. I talked with a friend who also stopped shortly after me. He said, “Running requires training but the school doesn’t train us.” 

When I moved to the US in 2012, I became more mindful of my health and started exercising regularly. I was mostly doing strength training. I tried to run many times but I couldn’t pass the half-mile mark. Three years later, I read a book about neuroplasticity. I was excited about the idea that I could change my brain and I knew it was true because I was becoming better as a designer and artist by simply practicing every day. I thought that maybe my inability to run was mental. I started running every day and shortly after that, I was able to run my first mile. 

In December 2021, my girlfriend Mairead expressed her desire to run the Boston Marathon in May 2022. She’s a Boston native so running the Boston Marathon would be a big deal for her. She asked if I was interested. I was scared to say yes at the beginning, but then I was curious about how my brain and body would handle the long runs. We were running about 3 times a week during that time. Our runs ranged from two to five miles. My longest run to that date was six miles. We were aware that it would be impossible for us to qualify for the Boston Marathon since we weren’t very fast. We decided to raise money for an organization. The first one to come to mind was Karam. 

In 2018, I visited Karam House in Reyhanli, Turkey. It was my first time interacting with Syrian kids since I moved to Boston from Syria in 2012 after the war started. It was an amazing experience to see these kids very engaged in creating meaningful projects. When I was there, I got to teach a filmmaking workshop and I made a documentary film that tells the story of Karam and two of the students. 

Karam: Generosity in Arabic

Mairead and I started training in December. We had a running schedule that was tough and time consuming. We had three short to mid-length runs (three to eight- miles) during the week and one long run (nine to eighteen miles) on the weekend. We were both feeling very good until I injured my knee on our last long run before the Marathon. I was nervous and I didn’t know whether I should run or not. 

I decided to run. On the day of the Marathon, almost every step was painful, but seeing the whole city coming together was exciting. We were running alongside people from all different countries and backgrounds. Midway through the race, we started to approach Wellesley College, and we could hear the screams of the students half a mile away, which gave us a real energy boost. We saw friends and family cheering for us along the way. Coming into the final mile, my knee was in such pain, but I knew that I could finish, and crossing the finish line on Boylston Street was an amazing moment. I felt thankful to Boston for giving me an opportunity that I didn’t have in Syria. And I felt happy that I was able to raise money for Karam students, who are also overcoming challenges and dreaming of big things.