Community Member-Led Initiative

When I crossed the finish line of the 2025 Miami Marathon, my dad had already endured one brain surgery, three hospitalizations, weeks of radiation, and three cycles of high-dose chemotherapy for glioblastoma (GBM). Yet there he was—smiling, cheering, and waiting for me at the finish line.

It didn't surprise me. For as long as I can remember, my dad, George Poulopoulos, was my biggest fan and greatest supporter. He never missed a match, a game, a milestone, or even the moments when life was hardest. No matter what he was facing, he always showed up for the people he loved.

My dad was larger than life—not because of his accomplishments or possessions, but because of the way he loved others. His infectious zest for life, humor, and generous heart left a lasting impression on everyone he met. He had a rare ability to uplift those around him and make people feel seen, supported, and better for having known him.

On January 3, 2026, after the most courageous battle imaginable, my dad passed away peacefully, surrounded by the people he loved most—his family. Although glioblastoma ultimately took his life, advances in research and treatment gave us an extraordinary gift: ten precious months filled with memories, celebrations, laughter, and love that we otherwise would not have had.

As I run the 2027 Miami Marathon, every mile will be in honor of my dad and every step will carry his memory forward. I'm fundraising to support glioblastoma research because every breakthrough has the potential to give patients and families something priceless: more time. More birthdays. More conversations. More finish lines.

If my dad’s story moves you, I hope you'll consider making a donation. Every contribution—no matter the amount—helps advance research, improve treatments, and bring hope to families facing this devastating illness. Thank you for helping me honor my dad's legacy and for joining me in the fight against GBM.

I love you, dad. Your spirit is stronger than ever.

- Tash -