For the Kids, For the Nolfs | THON 2026
By: Collin Jones
At 6:00 PM on Friday, I stood on the floor of the Bryce Jordan Center knowing that I would not sit or sleep again for the next 46 hours. Around me were hundreds of other dancers feeling the same mix of nerves, adrenaline, and anticipation. In that moment, THON stopped being something I attended and became something I had to endure, and earn.
This past weekend, I had the opportunity to dance at Penn State’s annual THON, the culminating event of the world’s largest student-run philanthropy. Each year, more than 700 dancers remain on their feet for 46 straight hours in support of the fight against pediatric cancer. Being selected to dance, whether through a student organization or as part of an Independent Dancer Couple (IDC), is both an honor and a privilege. In THON 2026, I represented the Penn State College Republicans alongside our Engagement Director, Ben Fry.
This was not my first experience with THON. I have attended every year since my freshman year at Penn State, and during my sophomore and junior years, I participated through my fraternity, Alpha Chi Rho (AXP), which also fundraises annually and sends dancers to the event. While I thought I understood the physical, mental, and emotional toll THON demands, actually dancing was an entirely different experience.
Before the official 46 hours begin, dancers report to the Penn State football program’s Holuba Hall to receive their dancer kits, which includes customized long-sleeve shirts, dancer bibs, and Nike backpacks filled with supplies, merch, and small distractions meant to help get through the weekend. From there, dancers head to the Bryce Jordan Center through what is known as the Human Tunnel. Hundreds, if not thousands, line the path, cheering as dancers walk toward what will be their home for the next two days. Seeing friends and complete strangers offering encouragement was surreal. That surge of energy, a sort of pre-THON boost, sets the tone for everything that follows.
Once inside, dancers gather on the floor waiting for the countdown to begin, fully aware that once it starts, there is no sitting or sleeping. The mix of nerves and excitement is hard to describe, but it’s something nearly every dancer feels.
The first 20 hours are relatively manageable. Fueled by adrenaline and excitement, Friday night and Saturday morning move quickly. Between watching the National Music Act(this year’s act, Fitz and the Tantrum, was phenomenal by the way), trying every available snack, and seeing friends during the first 24 hours, the time passes faster than expected. I especially enjoyed showing visitors around the floor, explaining the locker setup, and catching up with people I hadn’t seen in a while.
Then the weekend stopped being about endurance.
The Penn State College Republicans were assigned a Four Diamonds family for THON starting last year: the Nolfs. Getting to learn the story of Chloe Nolf and everything she has done so far in her life was a reminder of why every hour matters. Her strength at such a young age makes the exhaustion feel small. It makes you want to push harder, fundraise more, and give everything you have, because the effort you’re putting in directly helps kids like her. If she can fight the way she has, then so can you.
The first real wall came Saturday afternoon, when the fatigue of being awake for nearly 24 hours set in. At that point, it becomes about how you respond. You keep moving, eat something, find your dance partner, or splash cold water on your face. THON is as much a mental challenge as it is a physical one, sometimes more so. The key is focusing on small milestones: making it to the next hour, the next meal, or the next line dance.
Speaking of the line dance, this particular activity is one of the most iconic parts of THON. Happening roughly every hour, it keeps dancers moving and stretched while incorporating pop culture references (i.e. CHICKEN JOCKEY) and Penn State moments. It’s a consistent morale booster and one of the best ways to reset during the first half of the weekend.
Once you reach the second half of THON, the mindset shifts from passing time to finishing strong. After the Pep Rally on Saturday night, the physical toll becomes harder to ignore. For me, staying upright meant walking the floor and seeing more visitors. By early Sunday morning, I had taken an ice bath, had my ankles taped by trainers, and put on a compression sleeve for my right knee along with compression socks. I was fortunate to make it as far as I did before needing extra support, especially knowing how many others were struggling at that point.
The most important stretch of THON is known as the Final Four, not because it’s close to the end, but because Four Diamonds families share their stories with the entire BJC, followed by the In Memoriam honoring those we have lost. After being awake for more than 42 hours, this moment cuts through the exhaustion and re-centers everything. It reminded me exactly why I was there and carried me through the final hour.
As the last act finishes and everyone joins for one final line dance, the countdown toward 46 begins. Hugs are exchanged, emotions run high, and cameras come out to capture the moment the timer finally hits zero. At 4:00 PM, we finally sat down. Forty-six hours earlier, I had stepped onto the floor knowing I would not sit or sleep again until the weekend was over. What I didn’t know then was how much that time would demand, or how much it would give back. We had completed something physically and mentally demanding, yet deeply rewarding.
This year, Penn State THON raised $18,841,726.53, more than $1.1 million over last year’s total. The Penn State College Republicans contributed $14,513, the second-highest total in the organization’s history. After everything, the dancing, the exhaustion, and the fundraising, one message stands above the rest:
It’s for the Nolfs, and it’s For The Kids. Always.