Robert Karaś's confession about doping, records, and inconvenient facts without censorship.

The routine was refined daily. Karaś emphasizes that he never had muscle soreness after the first few days, attributing it partly to hydrogen inhalation and continuous movement. He notes that the most critical element was not the regimen itself but the mental relief of knowing a hot meal and massage awaited him at the finish line each night, which made the final kilometers bearable. On days when his lumbar seized, he had to race the clock before the next day’s start, illustrating how fragile the schedule could be without flawless support.

Karaś says he initially didn’t use any sweets, then started, then stopped again depending on phases. The gainer bottle was a late addition to the nutrition plan and he calls it a ‘discovery’ because he had never used it before. Coaching staff adjusted his feeds daily based on his oral reports and perceived energy.

Karaś says he often fell ill during intensive training camps, but since starting hydrogen inhalation he hasn’t been sick, even when his body was trashed. He also noticed he didn’t get delayed muscle soreness, which he partially attributes to H2. The device was part of the setup provided in Bahrain; he used it faithfully during the 56‑day challenge. He stresses that he only adopted it because he needed every edge, not out of deep conviction, but the outcome made him a convert.

Karaś believes he has inherently ‘weak’ feet compared to other ultra runners – his feet always look worst post‑race regardless of shoe choice. He tried cutting foam wedges to relieve pressure. The worst period was the first week, when meaty tissue pressed directly into the shoe. After the first layer of skin grows back, the pain eases. He emphasizes that each nail removal forced him onto antibiotics, which he hated because it sapped his energy, but he saw no alternative.

Karaś describes how the burger at the end was a ‘dream’ and made the final push bearable. He contrasts this with the unstructured suffering he would otherwise feel. He also notes that he never stopped to eat unless forced (once for his wife’s birthday he had cake sitting down), so the post‑race meal was the only formal break he allowed himself. The anticipation mechanism was strengthened by having the same team member coordinate it daily, building a routine.

Karaś explains that Bahrain allows dual representation for athletes, and the prince was impressed by his case. The prince had his military lie detector test offered ('Take me, hook me up to a polygraph and kill me if I lie') which he refused, trusting him on evidence. This level of trust and support contrasts strongly with the Polish antidoping agency PolADA, which, according to Karaś, never contacted him to help investigate. He repeatedly emphasizes he 'never said I changed citizenship' and that the misunderstanding stems from a TV interview where he expressed pride in representing Bahrain for their help.

Karaś explains he approached MMA only as a side gig for money, not as a sport he wanted to dominate. He trusted a person who injected him with a cocktail to enable him to just enter the fight given the notorious environment of that specific MMA scene where testing was absent. He was told the substances would be inactive after 72 hours, yet metabolites lingered. He admits his mistake was trusting without verifying clearance times. He stresses he never needed PEDs for triathlon because he loves training and was already at the top. He contrasts his case with how Bahrain dissected it, while Poland wrote him off as a 'deceiver and traitor.'

Karaś notes he had only three pairs of shoes cycled and re-ordered too late. The repetitive stress on one pair caused micro-trauma that escalated into chondromalacia, a condition he had previously in 2012 under identical circumstances. He tried pedaling with one leg but the saddle pressure became unbearable. He says he felt psychologically capable and physically able, citing a 9:48 Ironman only two days before the injury. The mistake was not having 20 pairs from the start. He describes the pain as a stabbing sensation that prevented even walking.

He explains that when he feels down, the countdown reminds him that the end is underground anyway, so every moment must be used. This isn't morbid; he says it helps him not waste time on regrets but to act immediately. He contrasts his current resilience with his past self who would have crumbled for weeks after a crisis. The app is visible on all his phone screens, reinforcing daily urgency.

He compares his choice to preferring a well-paid challenge over racing half-Ironman events that offer little monetary reward despite the prestige. He admits that without financial backing and the support of friends, he wouldn't attempt such feats. The money makes the sacrifice bearable for his family, and he treats it as a job: he wouldn't leave his wife and child for months otherwise. He contrasts his position with the hypothetical 'single talented athlete' for whom sport is life; for him, family is first, sport second.