Community Member-Led Event

In September 2025, I received a phone call I never imagined getting. My dad had a brain tumor. We knew it was bad. A week later, after surgery to remove as much of the tumor as possible, we received the diagnosis: Grade 4 Glioblastoma (GBM), one of the most aggressive forms of brain cancer, and terminal. To say our world was shattered would be an understatement.

Since that day, our family has experienced every emotion imaginable, fear, sadness, anger, gratitude, hope, and everything in between. We've learned that living with glioblastoma means living on a roller coaster. There are days that feel almost normal, that bring joy and plans for the future, and then there are days that remind you just how quickly that future can be taken away.

As many know, running has helped carry me through my difficult days. Just days after my dad's diagnosis, I committed to running the L.A. Half Marathon through the Glioblastoma Foundation. Together, we raised more than $10,000 to support research and families impacted by this disease. But the fight didn't end in Los Angeles.

It’s now taking me to Tokyo with the Glioblastoma Research Organization. The further along we get on this journey, the more I've realized how many people are connected to this disease. Friends have lost spouses, parents, grandparents, siblings, and others close to them. Others are in the fight right now, navigating scans, treatments, setbacks, victories, and uncertainty alongside the people they love.

While every story is different, we all have one thing in common: We're fighting for time. Time for one more birthday. Time for one more holiday together. Time for grandchildren to make memories with their grandparents. Always looking towards that next date hoping we make it there.

After the Monumental Marathon in 2023, I said I wouldn't run another marathon for a very long time unless it was somewhere really cool. Well, I’d say Tokyo qualifies as pretty cool. But this race is now about more than a destination. My first marathon was for Ryan. This marathon is for my dad. It's for the families who have lost loved ones to glioblastoma. It's for those currently in the fight. And it's for the those who, someday, will receive the same devastating phone call ours did.

There is still no cure for glioblastoma but research gives families, like ours, hope. Hope for better treatments. Hope for longer survival. Hope for more time. Thank you for supporting this journey and this cause that means so much to me and my family.

Because we're not just running a marathon.
We're running for more time.

- Colleen -