Oana Constantin - The story of a wanderer

Short introduction: Who are you and what are, for you, the most notable results you’ve achieved so far?

I’m Oana. I live in Romania, without a specific point on the map that I identify with, because I’m always on the move—always curious about what lies beyond the next ridge, around the next bend in the trail, past where the forest ends. Simply put, I love to walk a lot and to discover things, from the smallest details to the big picture that reveals itself at the end. That’s probably why I like running: I discovered that I can see more in a much shorter time. Over time, I also became fascinated by what happens to our limits when we work clearly toward a goal and allow ourselves to make mistakes, to learn, and to start again. The results came along with all of this, and while I could talk about a few races where I placed 1st or 2nd, I prefer to think about how once 38 kilometers felt like a very long distance, and now even 100 miles no longer seems that far.

1. How did your trail running journey begin?

It’s not something I see as a career, but it doesn’t quite fit into the hobby category either. I see running more as a way of life—something that’s part of me and comes naturally from curiosity and the joy of being able to do what I do. But to answer the question: it started with a 10 km run in the Bucegi Mountains, at the Atinge Omu race, seven years ago. It was the first time I reached Omu Hut, and I was absolutely fascinated by how the valleys looked from up there. While everyone else was rushing to get down (after all, it was a race), I took a few minutes to imprint that image in my mind. A lot has changed since then, but I’ve never forgotten to lift my gaze and take a few moments to enjoy what surrounds me.

2. Who are you when you’re not running, and how much of that “you” do you bring with you on the trail? (Sometimes running brings things to the surface that we don’t see in everyday life. What part of you comes to light when you’re alone with the mountain?)

I’m someone who juggles the roles of parent, support for those around me, lover of nature, photography and art, runner, and corporate employee. No matter which role takes center stage at a given moment of the day, the most important parts of me are always present in everything I do and guide my direction. I see myself as a puzzle with many pieces, because I like too many things and try to do a little bit of each. If from the outside it looks like I’ve found balance—well… the image is a bit far from the truth. But running does this for me: it gives me clarity when I don’t know where I’m headed, it brings order to chaos, and it urges me to reflect on the things I more or less consciously avoid.

3. Which BUR race did you take part in, and what did that race tell you about yourself? (About limits, courage, giving up, joy… What did you learn or relearn about yourself during the hours spent on the trails?)

I took part in Ultra Rocks 110K in 2024 and returned for Beast 100M in 2025. I experienced both as something more than just running races. The first came with the fear of the unknown, while the second came with a great sense of calm, as if I were part of the landscape, watching from the outside like a spectator observing a film whose ending I already knew. But just as any spectator needs to be surprised—even if they know the story—the Beast also brought an unexpected element onto the stage at the end. Both races unraveled a lot within me and revealed energies I didn’t know I had, as well as many parts I still need to work on.

4. Bucovina Ultra Rocks by UTMB is a race, but also a state of being. How does this place, the nature, the people, the energy, feel to you? (What kind of connection did you feel between yourself and the space you moved through? How did Bucovina touch you?)

In general, I feel that I have a special connection with nature, and although I enjoy everything it offers, I’m especially drawn to less-traveled places where I can find it exactly as it is. There, I can observe its transformations through the seasons, immerse myself in its quiet, and listen to its stories. From the first time I arrived in Bucovina, I loved the wildness of its trails, and on the Beast course I felt that I was literally stepping through the heart of Bucovina when I reached the Călimani Mountains. Although the route caused some orientation challenges and disrupted certain race plans, I constantly felt that I was in the right place at the right time. In the stillness of the night, through the maze of dwarf pine, I felt at home!

5. If you were to tell runners who have never been to Bucovina about the Bucovina Ultra Rocks experience, what would you want to convey beyond words? (What emotion, image, or moment should they feel to understand what it means to be here?)

Do you remember when you were a child, and the garden behind your apartment building, the park near your school, or the hills near your grandparents’ house were your entire universe—where everything you discovered was fascinating? I would encourage everyone to remember that magical realm of childhood, where everything was possible and we never grew bored. Looking back, that space seems small now and has lost some of its magic. But what if it was never magical, and our minds were the ones creating the magic? I could talk endlessly about how Pietrele Doamnei look bathed in the light of dawn, a sunset over the forests near Runc, or the Gloria seen from Pietrosul Bistriței—but others might see only an image, nothing magical. So Bucovina must be experienced with an open heart and a curious mind, with a desire for exploration and with a child’s eyes—because, after all, what is this world if not one big playground?

6. What does the idea of running among roots and looking toward the horizon mean to you? (What always brings you back to your origins, and what keeps pushing you forward?)

The direction of the horizon is where we are all headed, day by day, minute by minute, regardless of the path we choose. One trail may open up many views; another may lead us through dense fog. One we share with someone dear; on another we are completely alone in the quiet of the forest. What remains constant, no matter how much we wind along the way, are our roots—old and new, those we know and those we discover along the journey. With every step we make a choice: we continue a story or rewrite its meaning, but we always return to who we were when we first set out.