The City2Casino is Tasmania's oldest fun run: 2023 is event number 50.
Its genesis
was in 1973 when the casino was built. The C2C followed the City2Surf which began
in Sydney in September 1971. Which was inspired by the Bay to Breakers in San
Francisco.
Talking
about it, before and after, it makes me feel part of my community. It connects me with the other running legs. It connects me with all the people who have run
in previous years.
I connect
with all these people who are different and doing the same thing. Some who
enter will train specifically for it.
Others will play basketball, pickleball or go to the gym. Everybody will enter for a different reason.
On race day
all the jogging legs will pass the same landmarks and arrived there via
different means.
I want to
have that moment when my mind and my body are one. To have that moment when I
am thinking of nothing but running. That moment when I am so consumed with
running, I know nothing about the future or the past. To be in the zone. To
proudly run across the finish line.
Cornelian
Bay: On the day people appear from
nowhere. People stretching, leaning and running on the spot. Groups
jumping or jogging as they talk. Because of the weather most people
are impatient to begin running.
The road is
covered with runners. Everybody is united by wearing different clothes: skin
tight lycra; loose fitting baggy pants; track suits; jumpers; singlets or
shirts asking to be read. Most people have gone with warm jackets, jumpers and
long pants. Many numbers are hidden behind an extra layer.
We huddle
united on the road. Occasionally peering forwards.
What I don’t
see are the back stories. Behind everybody there is a great story. A story
about why they are here. What they are
trying to achieve. What time they are
aiming for. And why. What they have had to overcome to get here. What has
helped them? What motivates them? What
is the story of their life?
A gun fires
and people, in the front, start to run. I don’t. I shuffle and walk. Should I
start to run? Some people are walking.
Others jogging on the spot.
The running
contagion eventually spreads back and reaches us. We hesitate, just to be sure,
and then start to run. We are careful and completely aware of all our
surrounding runners. We don’t want any collisions. After a time of shuffling,
weaving, and walking we stuttering across the start line.
Some people
passing the start line reach for their watches and push a button.
After the
start line we head up the hill towards the Domain. We are going through a very
familiar spot which today feels completely different. The centipede of legs
changes the Botanical gardens, Government house and the old Beaumaris Zoo site.
They look and feel different.
The running
peloton is quiet. Very little talking. I can hear feet smacking the ground. I
can hear breathing. Running styles vary. Some are jerky. Some are
smooth. Some pump their arms furiously. Some rest their arms and make enormous
strides.
The weather
is windy. Near the gardens a shower suddenly appears. I button up my jacket and
put my cap on.
Past the
start of Soldiers Memorial Avenue. This is what these men were fighting for.
The right of the local community to freely gather and
play.
The showers
stop and the sun shines. I wrap my jacket around my waist. I smell the finish
line and pretend to sprint. The finish line is a bump in the road and an
air-filled blown-up gate. Which silently talks to my timing chip.
I stop
running and lean on my knees breathing deeply. Us runners form a conga line and
walk forward behind the Casino.
Eventually
we see a man holding many medallions. He gives me my special medallion. Everybody else gets the same medallion.
Why did I
run? Where does the pleasure come from? It doesn’t come from being the best or
winning or beating other people. It must come from the feeling you get when you
run. The enjoyment of physical movement. The wind in your hair. Being an
intimate part of the weather.
I eat
breakfast with some of my family. My grandson wears a medal around his neck but
I know where his pleasure comes from. Serving yourself a cooked breakfast.
And the
fellow runners. They were relaxed, self-confident, polite, purposeful and
active. They were not boastful, flamboyant, arrogant, deceitful or
unhappy. They are honestly pursuing what
was best for themselves and best for Hobart. And the very special legs were the
ones running in events number 1 and 50.
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