Nationwide Children’s Hospital Columbus Half Marathon

The Columbus Marathon expo was unlike any I’d ever attended, occupying a huge space in the convention center, where race volunteers and vendors gathered to get racers ready for the big day.  More than just a packet pickup with some cast-off sale gear and a bit of race merchandise, it was more of a runner’s paradise, with everything from shoes and gear and clothing to vendors promoting their own races.  It’s a place where you can get lost for a very long time.  You can try out products and grab some freebies—everything from lip balm (which, let’s face it, you can never get enough of) to hydration packets. 

Of course, the purpose of it all is to allow racers to pick up their bibs and race swag.  The packet pickup lines are spread-out and well-organized into a series of stops: first the race packet with bibs, separated by race (and first-timers can grab a special bib while they’re at it), then the shirts, separated by gender, then the optional Children’s Champions stop for fundraisers.  Shirts are cotton, which often causes the swag snob in me to roll her eyes—but these are soft, high-quality shirts with a great design, and mine is guaranteed to get a whole lot of wear.  Fundraisers also get extra swag, depending on the amount of funds raised.  Since I hit the $125 level, I received an extra long-sleeve T-shirt, and I grabbed an extra cinch tote and some decals and magnets and temporary tattoos while I was at it. 

And, speaking of swag, the race’s medals are some of my favorites.  They’re heavy-duty with a great design—one that I’ll display with pride. 

The day of the race is carefully organized chaos.  With thousands of racers making their way into the city, traffic is heavy, but everything is handled surprisingly well.  Police officers direct traffic and volunteers man the parking garages to get everyone where they need to be without too many headaches. 

Corrals, meanwhile, are shockingly crowded.  I’m used to starting corrals where groups gather and stretch—with plenty of space around them.  That’s not how things are here.  There are four corrals, and they’re positively crammed with racers, leaving no room to move or stretch or even take off your throw-away sweatshirt without elbowing someone in the face. 

The race is known for kicking things off with fireworks and “Thunderstruck”—which must be pretty awesome if you’re in Corral A.  If you’re in Corral D, however, you’ll watch the fireworks through the trees.  It’s still pretty awesome—with so many people crowded together, it’s impossible not to get hyped up as you all make your way to the starting line in one big pack. 

Later, once you cross the finish line, you find yourself back in the same area.  You make your way out of the athletes’ area, where a volunteer places your medal around your neck (a small action that brought the tears to my eyes) and another volunteer wraps you in a foil blanket.  Then you’re off to the after party, where you’re handed bananas and chocolate milk and cookies and all of the other post-race necessities (tip: don’t overlook the plastic bags at the entrance to the party).  Racers can then wander through the race store, take pictures at some great photo ops, and grab food from various food trucks before heading back out in to the city. 

Since there are thousands of racers, along with their family and friends, crowding the area, it does feel a little overwhelming.  It isn’t set up in a big, open area (which is strange, since there’s a big, open area just behind the gear check tables), so it doesn’t have the hang-out-for-a-while party atmosphere of other race parties.  You won’t get cocktails or free pizza or a whole lot of other freebies—but after finishing such a big race on a cold October morning, you might prefer to head home to a hot shower anyway. 

 The 13.1-mile course takes in many of the city’s sites—past the Conservatory, through Bexley, past the Nationwide Children’s Hospital complex, and finally returning to the downtown area, past the State House (and up a cringe-worthy hill in the final miles) before heading back to the finish line. 

Because of a last-minute issue for my training partner, I did the race solo.  And after realizing how much battery power my apps and music and camera were taking, I did a lot of it without my own audio, too.  During some races, that might be devastating—but not here.  There’s rarely a dull moment.  Each mile features a Children’s Champion—a past or present Children’s Hospital patient, who high-fives racers from his or her own tent.  Volunteers and spectators, bands and DJs all line the course, providing plenty of entertainment and motivation.  And hydration stations and porta potties are plentiful, offering support and distractions along the course. 

13.1 miles is no joke—and no matter what your pace, it takes a significant amount of time to complete it.  But, thanks to the great volunteers, enthusiastic spectators, and a scenic course, it doesn’t feel like you’re in for the long haul. 

What could have been absolute chaos, with thousands of racers trying to find their way around the city, was surprisingly well-organized.  I was amazed on several occasions by how smoothly it all went.  Everything went off without a hitch (or at least a noticeable one).  

Though the experience had its share of ups and downs, my overall opinion was definitely positive.  It was an incredible day—one that I won’t ever forget.