Opening Up to the Internet & Finding Her Cysterhood

Rania Tahiri, creator, PCOS advocate, Hyrox athlete, founder of a women-only run club in Paris.

Ranina (as her friends call her) does not speak in conclusions. She speaks in process.
Spend enough time with her and you realise that what draws people in is not transformation arcs or before-and-after moments. It is her refusal to reduce herself to one identity. Athlete, creator, product owner, cook, community builder. None of these exist in isolation. They overlap, interrupt, and inform one another.
What she has built did not begin as a mission. It began as a need.

PCOS, and learning to listen

Three years ago, Rania was diagnosed with PCOS. The diagnosis came with a familiar script. Don’t work out. Don’t push your body. Accept the limits.

She didn’t.

“I felt like at one point I was only allowed to breathe,” she says. “Everything else was considered bad for me.”

The weight gain came quickly. Nearly 30 kilos. So did the emotional distance. PCOS, for her, was never only physical. “It touches your mental health. You feel misunderstood, even by people close to you.”

She began sharing online not to teach, but to document. Social media became a form of journaling. A place to test what happened when she listened inward instead of following blanket advice outward.

“I was sure my body needed something different.”

So she experimented. Movement. Food. Recovery. Stress. Slowly, her body responded.

That process still shapes everything she does today.

Over time, listening became more precise. Paying attention to sleep, recovery, and her cycle helped her understand why certain days felt heavier than others. Tracking these patterns through Luna gave her context rather than pressure. “The most important thing for me is sleep,” she says. “Not just how many hours I slept, but the details.” When training feels unusually hard, she checks where she is in her cycle and adjusts instead of pushing through. For her, it’s not about optimisation. It’s about awareness, enough information to respond, without turning one difficult day into a difficult week.

Food as structure, not content

Cooking has always been part of Rania’s life. Long before it was something she filmed.

“I cook for my family. For the people I love. Food is care for me.”

As she learned more about PCOS, food became a tool rather than a restriction. Her recipes are practical, protein-forward, low on drama. Designed for real schedules. What many people miss is that Rania is not a full-time creator. She works in IT as a product owner. Her days are long. Her calendar is full.

“I try to show that even with a busy schedule, you can still eat well, lower stress, and take time for yourself.”

That realism is deliberate. Wellness, in her world, is not aesthetic. It is operational.

Hyrox, competitiveness, and choosing discomfort

Rania describes herself as competitive without hesitation.

“I love to compete. Not only in sports. In life.”

Hyrox entered her life as a way to channel that instinct. She trained for three years before her first competition. Started in women’s doubles. Moved to mixed doubles, lifting the same weights as men. Now competing in pro women’s categories across Europe.
The irony is not lost on her.
“I hate running,” she says, plainly.
Which is exactly why it became unavoidable.

Training for Hyrox forced her into the one discipline she resisted most. It also taught her how to work with her condition instead of against it. “I want intensity, but I don’t want to go over-intense. Listening to my body is non-negotiable.”

Sleep is protected. Eight and a half hours on good days. Recovery is planned. Stress is managed, not ignored. “The more you respect your body, the more it adapts.”

Her proof is physical. After her first Hyrox, she couldn’t move for two days. After her second, in a harder category, she woke up fine.

The run club, and what happens when women feel safe

The women-only run club in Paris did not begin as a movement.

“I didn’t want to run alone,” Rania says. “And I knew a lot of girls wanted to run, but were afraid.” Mixed run clubs felt intimidating, especially for beginners. Speed. Strength. Comparison. So she created a different space.

Women only. All levels welcome. The first run was capped at twenty spots. It sold out in under five minutes.

What mattered more was what followed. Nearly a third of the women ran their first-ever 5K that day. “For me, that was a huge achievement,” she says. “They trusted me enough to run with us in the streets of Paris.” The runs are intentionally social. Groups form naturally. Fast, medium, slow. Coffee afterwards is not optional.

“I wanted girls to really connect,” she says. “Not just come, run, and leave.”

Today, the club runs even when she is not there. Friendships extend beyond Saturdays. Some women now train for Hyrox together. Others simply show up for the consistency.

“It started selfishly,” she admits. “Now it belongs to everyone.”

The Cysterhood

PCOS is a constant presence in the group. Most of the women who run with her have it. They exchange advice mid-run. Test recipes together. Talk openly about fatigue, cycles, motivation.

“I don’t position myself as an expert,” Rania says. “I just share what works for me.”

There are plans for workshops, expert-led sessions, and retreats. Not to fix anyone. But to give women tools to understand themselves better. When doubt shows up, the group absorbs it.

“There’s this bubble of positivity,” she says. “They push each other.”

Rebuilding, again and again

Ask Rania how she sees herself, and she does not list achievements.

“I see myself as a phoenix,” she says. “I will always rebuild myself.”

She describes herself as sensitive. As someone who overthinks. Someone who feels deeply.

“I look strong, but I’m more sensitive than I seem.”

Strength, for her, is not hardness. It is persistence. The willingness to step out of comfort zones repeatedly. To choose herself without apology, but also without ego. “I don’t want to just walk on this planet,” she says. “I want to have an impact. A positive one.”

What Rania has built is not a brand. It is not a blueprint. It is permission.

To move at your own pace. To rest seriously. To train intelligently. To find people who make hard things feel possible. And sometimes, to run, even when you hate it.