They didn’t just run the Namosi 10km Challenge—they made a statement in hot pink and blue tutus, turning heads, raising eyebrows, and stirring hearts and curious minds.
They weren’t there just for the miles. They came to stand out, speak up, and run for those whose voices are too often unheard.
Running for autism
For the Afterburn Fitness (ABF) community, this wasn’t just another event on the calendar. It was the first time they dedicated a challenge to raising awareness for autism—a cause deeply personal for many of them.
This wasn’t about clocking times or chasing medals. This was about visibility, vulnerability, and voice.
Their tutus—bold, bright, and unapologetically eye-catching—weren’t just for fun. They were handcrafted by Mawi Designs ‘Ms Selly-Anne Paulo. Their blue caps were beautifully adorned in the shape of a heart – with the puzzle piece colours symbolic of autism.
The message, stitched into every layer of tulle, was loud and clear—autism exists here in the Pacific, and it deserves to be seen, understood, and supported.
They described themselves simply: everyday people—parents, teachers, office workers, hustlers. They showed up. And they believed that when people come together with purpose, they can move mountains—or at least jog over them in muddy Namosi.
ABF co-director Ana-Lisa Hill, brought together the team who walked, jogged, stumbled, and sometimes limped through the rugged terrain. But they were not in it for personal glory.
They ran for every child on the spectrum, for every parent trying to understand, for every teacher working without resources, for every community still in the dark about autism.
There were sore legs, burning lungs, and moments of doubt. But there was also laughter—so much laughter. And determination – the kind that came not from fitness, but from love.
And they were noticed
Double takes, cheerful heckles, curious stares, giggles from kids, even confused looks from uncles—those tutus did their job.
They opened space for questions, and in doing so, sparked something powerful: conversation.
People approached them, asked what the tutus meant, shared their own stories, and even thanked them for shining a light on something they rarely talked about.
“Our aim was to stand out for a reason,” Ms Vuli Savou said, one of the leading voices behind the initiative.
“We wore those tutus to make people look twice—not at us, but at the cause. At the children. At the families. At the realities of autism in our communities.”
“People came up to us, asked what we were doing, shared stories about their own families, thanked us,” Mr Walter Lokanasavumaca said.
“Some had never really thought about autism before. That’s the power of showing up.”
Autism is a neurodevelopmental condition—not a disease—that affects how people communicate, process emotions, and interact with the world.
In the Pacific , where stigma and misunderstanding often cloud the topic, awareness is still emerging. Families can feel isolated, invisible. Diagnosis and intervention are luxuries not all can access.
“Raising awareness is the first step,” Mr Peter Rigamoto said.
“We can’t talk about inclusion if people don’t even know what autism is. We wanted to change that—one tutu at a time. We wanted this to be a prompt so more could learn about autism and check out the Pacific Autism Center on facebook if they had more questions.”
That’s why Afterburn ran. Not as experts, but as advocates.
They didn’t claim to have all the answers. They just knew it was time to speak up—together. One tutu at a time.
The fitness group, which began as a grassroots health movement, has grown into a tight-knit community.
Yes, they train hard. Yes, they sweat buckets. But more importantly, they show up for each other—through burpees, birthdays, and now, through advocacy. Fitness, for them, has become a platform for purpose.
Their efforts didn’t go unnoticed.
They walked away with the Best Dressed Award—but more meaningfully, they walked away knowing they had made an impact. Because the people who came up to them that day didn’t just ask about tutus—they asked about autism. And that was the win they were after.
The tutus may have looked playful, but the message was serious: inclusion isn’t optional. Awareness isn’t a trend. It’s a responsibility. And change doesn’t always roar—it sometimes arrives in a tutu, breathing heavy, laughing loud, and offering its hand.
As the sun dipped behind the Namosi hills, there was quiet knowing among the team. They hadn’t just finished a race—they had started something. A ripple. A conversation. A promise.
The tutus may be packed away now, the race done and dusted. But the cause lives on, carried in every sore muscle and every heart they touched.
Because as long as there are voices brave enough to show up in colour, love, and purpose—hope will always have a place to run free.
n ATASA WILLIAMS is a member of Afterburn Fitness Fiji. The views expressed are her own and do not necessarily reflect those of this newspaper.
Massive energy, major impact. Mr Walter Lokanasavumaca — the definition of big but powerful. Picture: SUPPLIED
Every strong team needs a strong heart — and for ABF, that’s Ms Ane Vuli. Our mother dearest, always leading with love (and a little sass). Picture: SUPPLIED
Small group, big goal.
Picture: SUPPLIED
Gearing up for greatness, one step at a time. Picture:SUPPLIED
