Q1: Why the desert? Why put your body through this specific void?
“Because cities are crowded with opinions. Out here, the sand doesn’t care who you are or what you’re wearing, though I still make sure I look immaculate. It’s the ultimate detox—getting so lost that you actually have to look at yourself.”
Q2: How do you define pain when you are out on a grueling trail?
“Pain is when the dust gets under my sunglasses and my water flask tastes like warm plastic. It’s a total tragedy. But then you complain a little, well, I complain a lot if you ask my colleagues, it’s when Freay yells at you to forget the nonsense, and suddenly you realize you’re still moving. It’s oddly beautiful.”
Q3: What does the concept “GFY RUN” mean to you personally?
” It means finding my own private runway in the middle of a sandstorm, completely independent of what the purists think running should be. When you are going to suffer, be miserable at least I want to look great…”
Q4: What is your relationship with fabrics, colors, and functionality?
“Oh boy, if it doesn’t drape beautifully, I won’t wear it. I live in the translucent gold windbreaker cape layered over a minimal black sports bra. I need fabrics that react to the wind and catch the twilight light. Colors must be stark—either pitch black or glowing amber. If a fabric looks like cheap gym gear, it’s a tragedy. Functionality? As long as it keeps me looking elegant when I’m completely suffering, it’s functional enough.”
Q5: Why The Ghost?
“Our team manager and trainer, Kepa, told me that I had two options in this race: either to arrive at the finish line in any position, or to become a lost soul, a desert lost soul who wanders in her sheet ghost and gives advice to other runners like me who lack determination. Obviously, the whole team bet that I wouldn’t finish, so they started acting as if I were a ghost.”