This weekend marks a special moment many runners have been preparing for over the past few months — the Burj2Burj Half Marathon, taking place on February 8, which we previously touched on through Burj2Burj ambassador Vanessa Pungs.

For some, it is a personal athletic challenge. For others, it is a social, community-driven experience. And then there are those who run with a reason — one closely tied to something deeply personal, often shaped by the realities and struggles they carry with them.

This is the reality for Carolina Cortesi, who has been living in Dubai for the past four years and has devoted a significant part of her life to fostering abandoned cats. What began as a personal run became something more — a way to bring visibility to a cause that rarely gets the attention it deserves, and to give a voice to those who can't speak for themselves.

The issue is a familiar one. Dubai’s large stray cat population is shaped in part by the city’s transient nature: people come and go, and too often animals are left behind. Every rescue comes with very real costs — vaccinations, medication, and sterilisation — expenses almost always carried by individuals who choose to step in and help.

With the visibility the half marathon brings, Carolina has set out to raise 2,000 GBP to support the local rescue organisation Furr Family.

Before we dive deeper into Carolina’s story, here is the fundraising link for those who wish to donate or share. As of now, the fundraiser has already exceeded 1,000 GBP, with 28 people taking part — surpassing the initial target of 500 GBP. All donations are fully transparent, and fundraising will continue until the end of the month.

I have always loved animals. Growing up in Italy, there were always pets around, so it is something I have carried with me for as long as I can remember. When I moved to Dubai, I thought about adopting, but my life as an artist is very unpredictable. I never really know when the next job will come or whether I might need to leave suddenly. That uncertainty scared me a bit — I didn’t want to adopt and then find myself in a situation where I couldn’t fully take care of an animal.

Fostering felt like a gentler way to start. I had never done it before and, honestly, I was worried I would get too attached and really struggle when it was time to let the cat go. But over time, the way I saw it completely changed. I started thinking of myself as an in-between space — not the end point, just a step. I am there between whatever trauma the cat has been through and the home they are eventually meant to find.

I have been fostering for a little over two years now, and during that time I have taken in 14 animals — maybe even more by now. Most of them were abandoned or found on the street. What I try to do is help them feel safe again: to trust people, to relax, and to open up at their own pace. Some of the stories are really hard. A few cats were literally left outside veterinary clinics and driven away from. Imagine being a house cat your whole life and suddenly ending up on the street, attacked by other cats, completely confused.

What I do, though, is actually very simple. I offer my home, good food, clean water, and a calm, safe space. Fostering often sounds like a big, complicated commitment, but it really isn’t. And in doing something that feels quite small, you end up making a huge difference. You quite literally save a life.

The very first cat I fostered was Coco, a tiny kitten. For context, I don’t take cats directly from the street — that is the work of a local rescuer, Sundus. When she finds a cat in need and requires a safe place for them, she messages me, and we take it from there.

Coco had just been sterilised, and my boyfriend and I had absolutely no idea what we were doing. Thankfully, everything went smoothly. Being a kitten, she was adopted very quickly — within two weeks.

Then came Milo, who became our first real foster. He stayed with us for around two and a half months. When Sundus found him, his suffering was visible: his fur was thin, his body weak. With time, care and patience, he transformed completely — becoming stronger, fluffier and more confident.

And then there was Arra — a Persian cat, one of the kindest souls I have ever met, and the one who stayed with me the longest. He had FIP, a very serious and often fatal disease in cats, likely triggered by the stress of abandonment. Because of this, no one wanted to adopt him; people were afraid he would fall ill again.

I grew incredibly attached to Arra — it felt as though he was communicating with me. I decided to adopt him myself. But Arra was deeply emotionally dependent, and each time I was away from home for long periods, he became unwell again. We eventually arranged for him to be fostered by someone who could offer constant presence. Sadly, he fell ill once more. His kidneys failed, and he passed away.

There were many stories, but almost all of them ended the same way — with a forever home. Every other cat eventually found one, and that makes everything worth it. I still receive photos and updates from their new families. Some people ask whether it hurts to let them go, but I always think — if I had kept one, I wouldn’t have been able to help the next, and the next, and the next. Seeing them happy is the greatest reward. In many ways, the cats saved me more than I saved them.

I have been a professional dancer since the age of three, so my relationship with my body has always been central to my life. I am very competitive with myself and drawn to exploring both physical and mental limits. Running a half marathon began as a personal challenge, inspired by colleagues at work.

Alongside this, I am also a yoga teacher, and in yoga we often speak about seva — selfless action — the idea that practice shouldn’t feed the ego, but be dedicated to something beyond yourself. At a certain point, it began to feel wrong to put my body through something so demanding purely for personal achievement.

That was when I decided to dedicate the Burj2Burj half marathon to a cause I care deeply about: raising funds to support Sundus and her rescue work. Suddenly, every early morning, every sleepless night, and every painful training session carried a deeper meaning. Every drop of sweat became part of something bigger. That sense of purpose gave me strength and reminded me why I started in the first place.

Running for a cause also created momentum. What began as a personal decision quickly resonated with others — some helped raise awareness, others donated, and a few were even inspired to run the half marathon alongside me. It became a chain reaction: I was influenced by someone, then I influenced others, and that same chain helped the project grow. Seeing that the run stood for something moved a lot of people.

Even if we don’t raise as much money as we hope, the awareness itself matters. This is an important story for Dubai. People come and go, seasons change, holidays arrive — and too often animals are treated as temporary. When circumstances shift, cats are abandoned. Raising awareness about how widespread this issue is, and about the reality of abandonment, is a vital part of the work.

Because of my job, I am already very physically active — I work as a main performer at La Perle, doing ten shows a week, every week. So when I decided to sign up for a 21 kilometres half marathon, I knew I had to approach it smartly. When I started training, the longest run I had ever done was about 8K. I began gently. My first proper run was 7 kilometres at a very slow pace, and honestly, it nearly finished me. But I gave myself three months and focused on building things gradually.

I actually used ChatGPT to help structure my training plan, and I ran three times a week — Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday. One session was about speed, one was a steady mid-distance run of around 8–10 kilometres, and Sunday was always the long run, without stressing too much about pace.

Little by little, the distances grew: 10 kilometres, then 12, then 15, then 16 — until eventually I ran 21 kilometres. On Christmas Day, I even ran 25 kilometres, just to challenge myself. And through all of it, I stayed consistent.

I didn’t skip sessions. Even on mornings when I woke up at 6 am after only four hours of sleep, I still went — it was often the only time I had. For me, discipline and consistency are everything, but so is listening to your body when it tells you to slow down.

The reality is simple: vet visits, vaccinations, treatments, and food all cost money — and the bills never stop. So if people want to donate, support is always needed, whether it is for this cause or any local cat rescuer you trust.

Another thing people often don’t realise is how easy fostering actually is. You need a litter box, food, and water — that is it. No walks, no complicated routines. Most cats are quiet and easygoing; I have honestly never had any major issues.

Volunteering is another huge way to help, especially with TNR (trap, neuter, return) and sterilisation. Cats reproduce incredibly fast, and sterilisation is one of the most important long-term solutions. Sometimes a rescuer will treat a cat, take it to the vet, help it recover, and then safely return it to its area if they can’t take the case on themselves.

And of course, the golden rule is: adopt, don’t buy. I understand that people want specific breeds, but the truth is that so many beautiful cats are abandoned every day. You can still find the cat that feels right for you without supporting buying, as many of these animals end up on the street anyway.

Even small, everyday choices matter. If you walk along the canal in Dubai, you will see cats everywhere. Carry a couple of snacks, a small bottle of water, maybe a little plate — it is easy. Sometimes simply paying attention can save a life.

If you come across a cat in need or want to help, the following UAE-based shelters and volunteer groups may be able to help: