Run All The States!

Some race weekends are meticulously planned months in advance. Others come together in a burst of chaotic ambition and an existential question: “Can I even logistically do this? Because my brain hurts.”

My typical race-cation routine is pretty straightforward: fly in, use public transit or grab a Lyft or, walk everywhere, run the race, see some stuff, fly out. Easy peasy. But this time I decided to spice things up with the Flyover Challenge — a back-to-back half marathon weekend in Topeka, Kansas on Saturday and Lincoln, Nebraska on Sunday. Because nothing says “rest and recovery” like 13.1 miles followed by… 13.1 miles.

This meant the usual no-car strategy was out. I’m committed to fitness, but I’m not walking between states. So: rental car it is. The weekend’s travel itinerary looked like a geography quiz gone rogue. Fly into Kansas City, Missouri (state #1), drive to Topeka, Kansas (state #2), then to Lincoln, Nebraska (state #3), and finally fly home. That’s three cities, two airlines, one rental car, and one overambitious race plan supported by my bestie who helped me map it all out when my brain turned to mush.

Loud Floorboards and the Biggest Wren

Missouri gave me a rainy sendoff, but Kansas welcomed me with some sun cautiously peeking out of the clouds. I pulled into Topeka, grabbed my race bib and shirt at a Fleet Feet (no expo, just a friendly table of volunteers), and picked up some free BibBoards to try out. My longstanding bib attachment strategy is basically “controlled chaos” of classic safety pins or race belt toggles, so I figured it was time to diversify.

Next up: a little sightseeing. The zoo was cozy but charming, though it seemed like some of the animals could have benefited from larger spaces. (I’ll put in a request on your behalf.) I visited a sleepy tiger who was napping soundly on a wooden platform against the safety glass, just out of petting range (sigh). A couple of roaming black bears and a sunbathing river otter rounded out the afternoon menagerie. I tried to explore the Japanese garden but didn’t get very far since it was closed for a private wedding. While I wanted to get more photos from better angles, I retreated back to the zoo. I figured that “Confused Out-of-Towner Photobombs Bridal Party” wasn’t the move I was going for here.

From there, I visited the Brown v. Board of Education National Historic Site, the former school at the center of a landmark Supreme Court ruling that ended racial segregation in public education. It was powerful, moving, and also featured the loudest, creakiest wooden floorboards known to man. Seriously, every step through the historic school: SKREEEEEEAK. A very haunted-house-meets-history-museum feel. The exhibits were very well done, including the multi-part video series playing in the auditorium. Seeing the original kindergarten room (complete with a fireplace!) was wild. Modern kindergarteners would have that thing in flames before snack time.

Hall of Courage, featuring video and imagery of the fight for desegregated schools:

To cap off the sightseeing, I went to see the world’s largest wren statue (because of course Topeka has that) and strolled by the capitol building. Then it was timeto refuel at Iron Rail Brewing, where I enjoyed BBQ and a beer flight while further contemplating the weekend’s agenda and logistics. Dare I say I was actually feeling a little… excited about this double-state weekend? Or was that the beer talking? We shall see.

Race Day: No Frills, Just a Few Hills

The Topeka Half is the most delightfully low-key race I’ve done in a while. No corrals. No waves. No pacers. No mile markers (uh, okay). Just an air horn and a general direction of where to go. The kind of collective race mood of, “Yeah, sure, let’s go for a long run or whatever.”

It was a brisk but sunny morning — ideal running weather. I started near a couple proudly wearing matching “Kansas Beef” shirts, which felt on-brand for the state. I briefly hoped there’d be a wildly energetic aid station chanting “BEEF! BEEF!” like there was in Austin, but alas, a little different here in Kansas. No frills, remember?

The course began with a quick loop around downtown, a pass by the Brown v. Board site (hi again!), and then we were off onto the Shunga Trail via the Landon Nature Trail. This paved bike and pedestrian pathway bounced between scenic woods, industrial pockets, and the occasional creek. It was a weird yet interesting mix, especially if you needed to rent an emergency forklift or concrete mixer. Along the way, I nearly jumped out of my skin thinking there was a giant coiled snake in the grass. Oh. It’s just a twisted bike tire. Thanks for that, brain, because a mini heart attack is exactly what I want at mile 4.

Around the halfway point, the lead runner zipped by from the other direction. He was mustachioed and mysterious and so far ahead of the rest of the pack that I momentarily wondered if he had teleported. I didn’t see the second-place runner for mayyybe another mile. Another reminder of all the miles still to go on this primarily out-and-back course.

Upon exiting the trail, we hit a long stretch through a neighborhood of rolling hills, where three small boys gave me high-fives and course marshals cheered for us. Speaking of course marshals, let’s talk about the course signage and directions, because they seemed to vary wildly. Some areas had humans to direct us, others had pink spray-painted arrows marked on the concrete, and still others felt like “go with God.” A mix of perfectly clear and “hope I don’t end up in Oz” to keep things interesting. Still no mile markers aside from the often-inconsistent beeps on my watch.

Somewhere around mile 11, my legs were filing complaints, but I ignored them and kept on moving forward. It didn’t seem to affect my pace at all… weird how that works. A gray pittie trotted by on the trail, made brief eye contact, then disappeared like a cryptid. By now the field had spread out enough that frequently I couldn’t see another runner ahead. Peaceful, quiet, and reflective? Yes, but also with a low-level fear that maybe I was lost.

Still, I made it back to downtown. At mile 12, the Quincy hill appeared, steeper than anything had a right to be this late in the game. I noticed that the guy next to me was running barefoot and carrying his shoes like a pair of defeated dreams. Though he clearly was in a worse predicament than me, we exchanged a nod of mutual struggle.

We looped around the capitol again, passing a fitness bootcamp group who paused their workout to cheer us on (wholesome), and then it was straight into the home stretch. Just kidding — one last uphill grind to the finish line. I forced a smile through my gritted teeth and checked state #36 off the list!

While in line for a celebratory victory beer, a volunteer broke the news gently: “Sorry, we only have two kinds left. A Hefeweizen or a Michelob Ultra-type situation.” The apologetic description was amusing to me, and I decided to skip the post-run brew altogether and pack up for Lincoln. No big deal. On my way out I did meet a perfect golden retriever named Sophie, and that atoned for any beverage disappointment. I petted her, said goodbye to Topeka, and hit the road. No brunch, no nap, just a quick change, and a full-throttle sprint into the next phase of the day.

Post-Race Sprint Through Kansas (and Beyond)

Before heading to Lincoln, I squeezed in two cultural hits: the Oz Museum, where I paid tribute to Kansas’s most famous runaway (hi, Dorothy!), then zipped to the Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library and Museum (well worth the 90-minute drive!), where I tried to cram a day’s worth of exhibits into two very frantic hours. (Ike probably deserved more, but I did my best.)

I arrived in Lincoln just after 7 p.m., snagged a veggie pizza, watched a gripping Game 7 of the NHL playoffs, and fell asleep in anticipation of what tomorrow’s race would bring. Hopefully better course markings, at least.

Topeka Takeaways:

• Best costume: Tie between a lady dressed as a jackalope (complete with antlers and a helpful shirt labeled “Jackalope”) and an overheated-looking scarecrow guy.
• Most tempting detour: A morning slushie at Sonic after passing it on the course twice. Two Sonic sightings in one race should automatically qualify you for some kind of hydration bonus.
• Most irrational fear: Getting lost on a very flat, very paved trail. Also that non-snake in the grass.
• Best post-run snack: Sunflower seeds! A nice salty, crunchy treat courtesy of the Sunflower State. They also had BBQ sandwiches, but the sunflower seeds hit the spot.
• Midwestern crisis: How do cashless tolls on the Kansas Turnpike even work, especially with a rental car? I still have no idea. I’m just waiting for a strongly worded letter to show up someday, probably in triplicate.