Run All The States!

This race had been on my radar for a while thanks to its reputation: quirky themes, giant medals, Southern hospitality, and a whole lot of personality. Every year I’d scope out the theme hoping for one that screamed “ME.” (Still bummed I missed the pirate year.) But this year’s was dinosaur-themed, and honestly, that was… good enough? Whatever. Let’s just finally run this.

I flew in later than ideal (thanks, limited Detroit flights), got to the hotel around 6:30 p.m., and immediately followed my taco senses to a nearby spot. There, I met a friendly couple from upstate New York, fellow runners — great vibe, until they abruptly veered into politics and conspiracy theories. I enjoy a spirited discussion, but I just wasn’t feeling it today. Instead, I smiled, nodded, and retreated into a one-sided conversation with my tacos and beer.

Prehistoric Prep + Powerful History

The next morning I strolled to the expo at the Statehouse Convention Center, which was fully Jurassic-fied. There were cardboard cutouts of dinosaurs I absolutely knew the names of back when I had a Trapper Keeper and no taxes. Now? Not a clue. But between those, the balloon arches, inflatable T-Rexes, and fully-themed staff, the vibe was peak dino dedication.

Packet pickup was smooth — nothing prehistoric about it. There was a therapy dog rescue there (each pup had its own trading card, which is maybe the best idea ever), and Flyway Brewing booth handing out free beers without checking IDs. Suspicious? Maybe. My problem? Not at all. Another vendor was giving away industrial-sized bags of protein powder like they were Oprah. (“You get a case! YOU get a case!”)

Post-expo, it was time for some exploring. The weather was beautiful — 70s and sunny — and Southern spring was springing vibrantly. Most animals were out and about, including some energetic otters and sleepy tigers. The zoo had promised a “Painting with Penguins” event, but of course that wasn’t happening the weekend I was in town. Typical. So I made do with watching the regular penguins — not a single beret or paintbrush among them.

After the zoo, I made my way over to Central High School — the site of the 1957 Little Rock Crisis. The visitor center isn’t huge, but it packs a powerful punch. The self-guided exhibits cover the Little Rock Nine and the landmark desegregation battle with moving detail: archival footage, news clippings, interviews, and press coverage from the time. I just missed a guided tour with a park ranger (curse my leisurely zoo pace), but even solo, the experience was striking.

And the school itself? Enormous. Like, “two of my high schools could easily fit inside this place” enormous. It’s still a functioning high school today, so visitors aren’t allowed inside — but just standing across the street, taking it all in, felt heavy and significant.

Weather Whiplash & an Early Wake-Up Call

Due to a forecast of unseasonable heat and that apparently-infamous Arkansas humidity™, race organizers moved the half and full marathon start up two hours to 6 a.m. I wasn’t even mad — mostly impressed. That’s a lot to coordinate on short notice.

Plot twist: race morning rolled around, and instead of the steamy forecast we’d been warned about, it was in the low 50s, overcast, and yes, still humid (because Arkansas). Honestly, not bad for running, though I wouldn’t have minded a sunbeam or two for the photos.

The starting line outside the convention center was misty and atmospheric — perfect if you were staging a moody indie film about running. We had access to the convention center indoors, but this weather didn’t warrant hiding out. We gathered near the Arkansas River, waiting for the countdown that… didn’t quite happen. A woman with a mic started confidently with “10! 9! 8…” then bailed mid-count with a casual “never mind” like someone who just remembered they left the oven on. A guy immediately picked up the mic and finished the countdown like this was his destiny. Beautifully chaotic energy to kick things off.

The first leg of the route looped downtown, crossed the Broadway Bridge into North Little Rock, then traced a shape that looked like someone tried to draw a heart emoji while falling asleep. At 5K we crossed back over and headed east past the Clinton Library, down a long industrial stretch that went quiet — eerily so. This was one of the only spots without crowd support, which made it feel extra lonely. Marathoners kept going past this turnaround for a bit longer, making the signs a bit confusing. I heard several half marathoners panicking about mile markers: “Mile 8 already?!” Oh sweetie… no.

We looped around MacArthur Park and a patchwork of downtown streets. The course felt like something I would create on a long-run day just to hit a mileage goal: a little zig here, a random zag there. Nothing brutal elevation-wise, but it definitely kept us guessing.

One sign read “Pet for Power Boost” and featured two very official-looking dogs. I obliged. One dog accepted my offering of scritches and instantly transferred pure race energy into my soul. The second dog? Fully asleep, could not be bothered, gave off strong “this ain’t my shift” energy.

A little girl holding a “Pothole!” sign. She saved lives that day.

Around mile 10, the “Governor’s Mansion Prehistoric District” cheer zone delivered: Jurassic Park vibes, inflatable dino costumes, themed music, and a kid hoisting a giant Charmander plush like Simba. Respect. Also, there were so many cheetah print and caveman-chic costumes I couldn’t tell if it was Flintstones cosplay or a CrossFit-themed safari.

We looped past Central High again — cool to pass this landmark mid-race! — and turned toward downtown for the final stretch. About a half mile from the finish, we hit the legendary Lipstick Stop. I thought we’d get a mini sample, but no: two full tubes (one gloss, one lipstick). A volunteer was surprised I stopped to apply it right there, but I figured that was the point? Their slogan “Look your best for the finish” is not the same as “look vaguely better for brunch later.” I briefly considered drawing a big sloppy Joker grin.

Finish & Post-Race

One final turn near the riverfront, and boom: done! And then came the medal in all its glory.

Let me tell you, I had seen pictures of these medals from years past… but nothing prepares you for the reality. Mine was a sparkly orange triceratops, heavy enough to qualify as a neck workout. The marathoners got an even bigger T-Rex one that looked like it came with its own zip code. I love a good medal, but I also love not throwing out my back. This was just right.

The post-race party was conveniently inside the expo hall. More Flyway beer (still no ID checks?), water in reusable bottles, chocolate milk, pasta, and snacks. I was craving hungry-girl breakfast, so I headed to a place called Big Bad Breakfast for exactly that. It delivered.

Later I spent a couple hours at the Clinton Library and Museum. It was a fascinating multi-floor journey through modern American history, plus exhibits on White House pets Socks and Buddy — true icons. Some of the video displays weren’t working, and the staff personally came around to apologize profusely and explain they were short on IT support that weekend. Peak Southern hospitality and customer service.

Little Rock was a little bit weird, a little wild, and a lot wonderful. What a way to kick off another year of runventures.

Little Thoughts from Little Rock

• Overheard near a fire station blasting Paramore’s “Misery Business”: “Ughhh, well, you picked the right time to play this.”
• Odds this beastly medal will pull my entire medal hanger off the wall: High.
• Best aid station: A table with a wide assortment of snacks and beverages, and a volunteer who said “Take whatever you need!” in a tone that was both generous and extremely over it. Some runners took it as an open invitation to stockpile for winter.
• Off-theme fun: I leaned into an off-theme outfit: cereal-print socks and a “Running with my Peeps” tank (yes, those marshmallow Peeps).
• Best newcomer: Cherry Gatorade instead of the typical (yet still delicious) lemon-lime Gatorade or blue Powerade
• Number of mimosa stations spotted on course: 3. That I noticed.
• Best fueling strategy: I subsisted on tacos and beer for two days because I couldn’t make a decision, and then I got hangry. Can never go wrong with tacos.