Tag Archive for: pediatric cancer non-profit

I’m ready to be somebody other than just her mom

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Written by Erin Santos, ISF Executive Director & President

Erin, Grant & Sophia

We are moving.  Hoping to have the house on the market April 1st and in a new home between SouthPark and Uptown the day after the kids finish school.  I’m so excited I can barely stand it. This house that was once purchased 8 years ago was for a family I no longer recognize.  A husband and wife, 3 kids and dog and a cat has now dropped to a Mom and 2 kids. The house is huge (which I know is inappropriate to say) but we needed it when Isabella was fighting cancer.  My Mom was living with us on and off and with a revolving door of help – we used every inch of the home. The kids played in the yard because we needed to keep Isabella close and Bailey and Jake roamed free alongside them.  The Marvin school system was our backbone for support with an amazing free education and my neighbors became my extended family.

But 6 years after she has passed, a divorce, a dog that passed away and a cat that one day left and never came back – this house is a graveyard of my past life.  I have no idea how to fix things in the house (although I’m learning) and an acre of yard that the kids no longer play in has me dumbfounded on seeding, aerating, lime and who knows what else.  Other than Sophia’s best friend next door – we keep to ourselves and find our inner circle is completely new. In fact, the majority of people close to me have never met Isabella and sometimes one step removed friends don’t even know I have a child that passed until I throw it out on the table.  I need a change badly.

I have been going about this change fairly mechanical.  Any free time I get is spent devoting my time to a room, a closet, a drawer.  There are very few items in my house that mean much to me at this point. My goal is minimal living, kill all these toys the kids don’t play with and trinkets that junk up my life.   I’m plowing through each area with very little emotion. We had done a few passes on Isabella so luckily I’m not tripping over her in every drawer, which helps. I’m throwing everything away.  Tubs that have crap in them that I haven’t even looked in – the entire tub goes in the trash. If we haven’t used this in the last 60 days – it’s gone. Goodwill is making out like a bandit and my trash screams of a purge. 

Grant has been okay with the process.  He’s a lot like me with very little attachment to stuff these days.  Other than his Beats headphones, his phone and some items he likes to sleep with – the rest of it can go.  He is stuck in a little boy’s room and the promise of a new room is enticing to him.

Sophia would keep a speck of dust.  She struggles a lot with Isabella still and Mommy and Daddy not being together so her “stuff” is on lockdown.  The only way I can convince her to purge is her little cousin Eden who is 3. “Wouldn’t Eden love these books you read in preschool?”  Sophia’s heart is bigger than anyone I know – so of course, the thought of giving to her little cousin throws the book right in the box.  God, I love her.

Isabella’s room

The house is about halfway done now with the purge.  I’m enlisting the help of my Mom to come for Sophia and Grant’s room because I need a little reinforcement.  But there was one last room that deserved some attention and I have been holding off for 6 ½ years for it. The time had come.  My hand was being forced.

My first step was explaining to the kids what I needed to do.  I had to assure them her stuff was not being thrown away. In fact, it’s just being boxed up and moved with us so we can still have her in our new house.  I was just merely “cleaning and organizing” her room so we can find a better place for it when we move. They seemed okay with this idea. However, I knew that I couldn’t have them there for it because they would freak out if they watched.  Thankfully, two families graciously took my kids for the day and night so I could focus on the task at hand.

Now, how do I focus on the task at hand?  I knew myself and I knew that I had to be very strategic in how I went about this.  If I didn’t do this right, I could tailspin into something that could put me under water for days.  Do I bring my Mom down, or will that be too hard? Should I bring in some friends who don’t have a connection to anything?  I honestly almost went this route. But, I figured that I would be too quick with the process because I didn’t want to explain every item I picked up.  Otherwise, that would be another tailspin. Then it finally hit me. Miss Chrissy. If Isabella wasn’t with me or my mom, she was with Miss Chrissy.

Miss Chrissy & Isabella

I knew Miss Chrissy would be perfect because sometimes she comes over and just to kick herself in the heart she goes up there.  She fingers through her dress (that she mostly purchased) and revels in the tailspin for a brief time. This is usually done at Halloween when she comes over and we drink waaaaay too much on the front porch, passing out candy and listening to 90’s hip hop and some 80’s favorites.  It never fails, the alcohol content rises and we find ourselves stumbling up the stairs. She and I like to torture ourselves together.

Of course, she accepted the invitation because it may be the last true torture.  This woman… there is no one like her. Love.

She arrived and I tried to be organized.  Boxes, plastic bins, loud music… I was ready.  We walk in the room and we stand there quietly.  Then I start to cry. Well, that was fast. We start to attack it piece by piece and the conversation stays light.  She gets the update on my crazy life and I get to ask her about hers. We stop every couple of seconds as we hold something up and we just pause.  A large sigh comes over the both of us.

Isabella’s Drawing

We have a system.  Trash, goodwill, Eden and keep.  The system works well because the trash really is just stuff others have brought into her room to play with.  Sure, there are random beads and broken Barbie arm but otherwise, it filled up easily. Some things were hard. It pained me to get rid of anything that her handwriting was on, which was honestly stupid.  I remember saying, if Isabella were here – she would say, “Mom… why are you keeping that? It was a homework assignment.” But, I figure in a couple of years I will hit those papers again. For today – I wasn’t ready.

Goodwill.  Stuff that I have no idea why she had, who gave it to her and no memory of her wearing.  I have a memory that is a steel trap, so if I don’t remember then this is why Miss Chrissy was perfect because she would remember.  “Do you even know what this is?”. NOPE! Then off to Goodwill it would go.

Eden.  This was easy too because if you know Isabella, you knew she was picky about her clothes.  Anything that was pants – definitely for Eden. I’m not sure if I can remember her wearing pants 10 times.  She hated them because of how they fell on her bone marrow scars on the front and the back. And if she did wear them, it was because I forced her and a day of Mommy hate was to come, and I hated those days.  Needless to say, Eden has enough pants to last her awhile.

Isabella’s pumpkin outfit

Keep.  This is where things got weird and I thank god we weren’t being watched.  The mounds and mounds of dresses that Chrissy bought her that were over the top.  These dresses were ridiculous and are why Janie and Jack are still in business today.  Huge dresses with sweater cover-up and matching headbands. The outfits that were purchased specifically for holidays that you could only wear maybe twice.  My favorite, the orange tulle ballerina skirt with the cream shirt that had pumpkins on the collar and the matching cream button-up sweater with pumpkins on it.  One outfit sends you spinning into a memory. She wore this Janie and Jack pumpkin outfit (estimated value $150, ridiculous) one October and got a massive nosebleed due to low platelets.  We were in her bathroom and it was pouring out of her, all over this outfit. We couldn’t stop it. We called Miss Chrissy to come and stay with our kids and rushed her into the car – driving 30 minutes to Levine.  We stopped at a light and flagged down a police officer to escort us up, allowing us to run lights. She was bleeding everywhere. The outfit was ruined and it was all that mattered to her. Not the fact that she was bleeding out in the back of Stuart’s truck.

In Miss Chrissy fashion,  the outfit was fully replaced – with a matching outfit for Sophia.  The both wore these outfits together proudly almost into December. That is what you call a keep outfit.  

I could go on for hours on the clothing but I will spare you the details.  Although, just to add a funny story to the mix. Let’s talk about Isabella’s underwear.  Bear with me. If this girl wasn’t in a full-length gown, she was just in her underwear. A constant mix of fevers made her body temperature a little above normal.  So most times you were with her, she was walking around in a pair of princess underwear. We open the drawer and this one shocks us. Every little pair in the drawer I could see her in.  But now we feel weird because we are saving a little girl’s underwear. I’m actually laughing as I type this because we felt like creepy women. But it was actually an outfit. We couldn’t figure out what to do.  “I feel weird taking a pair!”, Chrissy said with a laugh. But I got what she meant. We saved a few in her clothing box and decided not to judge ourselves. I swore if it had a memory, it needed to be kept. So there.  I kept some undies. Ugh.

Isabella’s unopened letter to her best friend

The rest of the day proceeded and we found lots of really amazing things.  We found so many pictures she kept of her and Soliel (her best friend) and even notes she had written her that were still sealed.  We hated to open them but when we did we found they just said things like asking her to come over. They were simply just notes a 7-year-old writes her BFF.  We kept them all. We found pictures she had drawn of her and Grant that we knew he would love. We found a box of letters her class had written explaining how each of her classmates were going to live their life differently now that they met her.  All saved.

In the end… we finished.  Miss Chrissy took some items, pictures of them together etc.   And then there she was… all in boxes.

I don’t remember what all I said to Chrissy when she left but I know it wasn’t what I really needed to say.  She needed an hour-long thank you for what she did for her, for me all while killing herself I’m sure in the process.  The definition of selfless. I hate that she doesn’t have her anymore and I know she aches as much as I do. I hate that.  But all I can give her now are these torture moments – that’s all I have left.

I just rocked

I took her sheets off the bed to wash them and then I just sat in the empty room.  I sat in her rocker that I used so many times to rock her to sleep. I just rocked.  Then I sobbed like I never have – for a long time. Sobbed like it just happened all over again, which I rarely do anymore.  I couldn’t stop. I think I just let it happen because the house was empty and there was no one there to console me or hear me.  I was truly just crying about losing my daughter and how completely awful the whole thing is. I can’t tell you what was all going through my head.  I can only describe it as the worst pain I have felt in years.

I could barely move the rest of the day.  I ordered food and seriously ate a bowl of pasta in my bed. Forrest Gump was on TV and just stared at the screen.  I was in a full coma of heartache. So many people reached out to me that day and I’m so thankful for that. I’m not sure anyone could understand what that was like, but it really felt like my last goodbye to her, which is silly.  We talk about her every day in our home, at work and casually in life – but for some reason, it felt different. Closure that I had never had – but I needed.

And now we just have to move on.  I’m ready to be somebody other than just her mom.  I’m honestly ready and excited.

 

Exercise to Help Save Lives

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Isabella’s Dream Team

Exercise.  Whether we run, go to the gym, attend a yoga class, or simply power walk – we all exercise for a reason.  Most of the time, it’s the obvious reasons . . .   Stay healthy.  Lose weight.  Challenge yourself to see if you can do it.  Relieve stress.  Gain muscle.  Sense of accomplishment.

What if one of those reasons to exercise could be to help save a life?  Would you do it?

The Isabella Santos Foundation (ISF) Dream Team does just that.  We exercise to help save lives.  

Join us  Saturday, August 11th, for a group run!

  • Who: ISF Dream Team
  • What: Group run!
  • Where: Little Sugar Creek Greenway
  • Meet at Park Road Shopping Center 4101 Park Road, Charlotte, NC
  • When: Saturday, August 11 at 7am
  • Why: Help save a life!

Email us at info@isabellasantosfoundation.org for more details.

The ISF Dream Team is a running group that assists you in training to run the race of your dreams. You can train for a 5k, 10k, half marathon, half marathon relay, full marathon relay, or a full marathon.  You are provided a training schedule, invited to group runs, and inspired by a phenomenal team of people.  Not only will you meet a dynamic group of people, but you will also be inspired through your friends and family as they support you through the training.  The ISF Dream Team has raised over $400,000 to date, with the funds contributing to our local Charlotte community.

February 23, 2017 – 7 years 111 days

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When you lose a child, your life becomes a series of numbers, times of day, songs, and dates.  I don’t really know why we do it to ourselves.  Why do we look at the clock or the calendar and say things like, “this day in 2010”.  It’s just plain torture.  It’s especially bad around her passing day because the memories are so vivid that you can still recall every day of that month.  How she looked, what she said, who came to visit or even the haircut you got that month, which you always regretted.  Why would I leave her to do that?  The haircut always haunted me.

How old was Isabella when she died is a question I get all the time.  My immediate answer, or the one you will hear out of my mouth is 7.  But in my head I am saying 7 years and 111 days.  She wasn’t just 7 because of course like any tortured Mother, I remember the day she turned 7.  We had a full day planned to celebrate on that day, but we got a call from Dr. Kaplan who told us that she was in need of blood and platelets.  I had a small breakdown in the clinic about it because I was tired of having special days ruined for her.  She of course was clueless to missing out because her whole life was about missing out.  The staff decorated her transfusion room for her and got her cake, balloons and gifts.  It was sweet of them and I honestly think they did it more for me.

While we were there, we also got a call from NYC and were surprised to hear that one of Isabella’s four bone marrows tested positive for neuroblastoma.  This came out of left field for us because we thought she would be squeaky clean after her third MIBG treatment.  The amount they found was very minimal, but in the world of cancer, sometimes that is what will kill you.  This small evidence of disease was ultimately the cells that exploded and eventually took her life.  Go figure, the start of her death started on her 7th birthday.

Of course in Isabella style, we did have a wonderful birthday weekend.  We went to Great Wolf Lodge with her bestie Soleil and had a horse party with all her friends.  She asked for Target gift cards for her presents and then proceeded to spend every single one of them buying toys to replenish the oncology floor playroom.  Even on her last birthday, she was still giving.

That was her 7th birthday.  The good, the bad and the ugly.  She lived 111 more days.

Phia, 7 years 111 days

I saw it coming as I took a glimpse into my February calendar.  There it was.  February 23, 2017.  This was the day that Sophia would be 7 years, 111 days old.  This is also the day that Isabella would officially become my youngest child and daughter.

Of course my natural way is to push things down and try not to think about them.  But grief has a way of sneaking up on you.  Even this morning, the day before Isabella’s birthday, I find myself being a total bitch.  I’m overtired.  I’m cranky.  I want to be alone.  I’m snapping at my kids and want nothing to do with seeing Stuart.  I know what it is all about, I am just trying to deny it.

So I go about the days leading up to it and walk right into a memory a week before the dreaded day.  I had been trying to get back in the gym and my body was hurting.  I decide to take a nice relaxing soak in the tub.  We all know as mothers that kids hear that bath running from miles away.  Within 2 minutes, Sophia is stripped down naked and about to do a cannonball into the tub with me.   She is squirmy as usual and I can’t even get a word in edgewise.  Sophia is non-stop energy and it baffles me how she can be at a 12 all day every day.  She is making a Mohawk in her hair with bubbles and is putting a Santa beard on me all while telling me about her boyfriend and how he tried to kiss her on the playground.  I try to be present but I find my mind wandering as I look at her.

June 21, 2012 (One week before she passed)

“The days seem so long and often I ask myself, what day is it?  I seriously don’t know if it’s Sunday or Thursday.  The majority of my days are spent in the bed with Isabella.  I try to lay with her in the morning until around 4 each day.  We don’t do much in the bed.  Occasional meds, back rubs, small conversation.  I’ll get her up and put her in the bath with me to make sure she at least feels clean every day.  But with each bath, I look at this girl and can barely see my Isabella in there.  Her stomach is sunken, ribs showing every bone.  Her shoulders stick out like they want to punch through the skin and her spine shows each vertebrae.  I can no longer carry her with my hand on her back because it just upsets me too much.  

While we are all trying to come to peace with things, Grant is beginning to struggle.  He is having moments of tears that come from just seeing a picture of them together.  Nightmares, night sweats and the constant need to be right next to me, letting me know that he is grieving.  He misses her.  He comes and gives her hugs when he leaves and constantly says, “tell Isabella I love her”.  Even today he came in and sat next to the tub while Isabella and I took a bath.  Just talking about whatever came in his head… but it just felt normal to him for a minute.  They talk as if nothing is going on… he tells her that her hair is coming in good, or they talk about how library day will work next year at Marvin, what happens when people have surgery, his new Spider-man book…whatever.  He just wants to be there.  I’m amazed he doesn’t mention the look of the body he sees in the water…he notices it I’m sure.”

Just a couple of days later, we took our last bath together.  I laid her on top of me and not much was said.  I knew she wanted to talk to me but it was hard for her.  The words that were coming out of her mouth weren’t making sense.  She was trying to talk to me about a bunny or Grant but then said, “Mommy, that didn’t make sense did it.”  By this point the cancer was in her brain and it was taking over quickly.  It was the last conversation we had.  For the next 24 hours she was still there in her mind but this too would go soon.

June 26, 2012 (Two days before she passed.)

Her heartbeat is slowing down but sounding different because her heart is working harder.  Her oxygen is slowing down a bit too.  Her breathing is slowing down so much in fact that I just stare at her.  She will take a breath and then it will be so long until the next one that I find myself holding my breath until she takes one again.  She sleeps most of the day and gives me small glimpses of what is in her mind.  I lay with her so quiet and still and listen to the things that she says in her sleep.  She asks me if I see things or tells someone to wait on Mommy.  She will say Grant’s name but then it wakes her and she says that she was just dreaming.  She flinches and smiles, makes gestures with her hands and squeezes my hand softly.  It’s like she is talking to someone.  But the occasional smile let’s me know that it is not a conversation that scares her or makes her sad.  Each night Stuart and I snuggle in beside her and tell her things just in case she is not with us when we wake up.  We have been told by hospice that we are lucky.  She is relaxed, comfortable and not in pain.  

Two days later she died.  She died in the morning on June 28th at the age of 7 years, 111 days.

Phia, 7 years 111 days

So on February 23rd, 2017 I crawled into bed with my now oldest daughter Sophia.  We snuggled for a bit and then she got a piggyback ride downstairs as she got ready for school.  I dropped her off and continued to torture myself throughout the day.  I talked to my Mom on the phone and cried.  Then I sat down and watched “This is Us” and bawled my eyes out as the father I loved on the show died from cancer.  I visited Isabella’s site briefly.  I sat in the sun quietly and waited for Sophia to get off the bus.  I gave her a big hug and told her that today she was 7 years and 111 days old.  She shrugged me off as usual.

I took her for a haircut where the stylist walked right into my nightmare.  She asked Sophia how old she was, to which she responded “7 years and 111 days”.  The stylist laughed at how cute she was.  I knew when she asked her if she had any brothers or sisters, that we were in for it.  Sophia of course responded telling her, “I have a brother Grant and a sister Isabella who died of cancer.”  All this while zoned into watching Big Hero 6 on the TV screen.  The stylist turned and looked at me.  “Oh my gosh!  I’m so sorry.  How old was she?”

“7 years and 111 days.”  I replied.  I then proceed to weep on the couch of Pigtails and Crewcuts.  Welcome to my f’d up day lady.

Phia, 7 Years 111 days

I took Sophia back and we walked on the trail together, holding hands and laughing.  I would catch myself looking down at our hands together and thinking how unbelievably similar that view was.  Her hands are identical to Isabella’s yet so much is different.  She is healthy and running barefoot ahead of me in her purple dress with her blonde hair bouncing up and down.  I am looking at a child that Isabella should have been on that day.   Happy, cancer free, without a care in the world.

But instead she is gone and Sophia is now older than Isabella.  I am thankful this day is behind us and can thankfully say that I don’t have another day on the calendar for awhile that I’m scared of.  It’s crazy to think she would be 12 years old today.  I can’t even imagine.  But, as Sophia ages each day – it gives me a small glimpse into a piece of who she would have been on that day in history too.  I always say Sophia is a gift from Isabella.  Her little sister who has in one day, all of sudden, become her big sister too.

Want to help our fight? DONATE HERE

We Should All Want to be Like Her

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Written by Erin Santos, President of The Isabella Santos Foundation

Ib_Magnolia BakeryI saw this picture of Isabella in our new video and it stopped me in my tracks.  One of my many awesome abilities is my long and deep memory.  In the memories of Isabella, it is a a blessing and a curse.  Many of you will look at this picture and think of how happy she was.  And you would be right.  She was happy here.  She was one of the happiest children you ever met.  What you don’t see in this picture is the struggle.  This was Monday, September 19, 2011.  We were in New York City for dreaded quarterly scans.  We tried to make our time in NYC exciting for her and this day was no different.  We were given a private tour of Magnolia Bakery and private cupcake decorating party.  She brought her American Girl doll with her who also liked to decorate cupcakes.  She and her doll, Lanie proceeded to decorate cupcakes with hot pink icing and every color of sprinkle in the rainbow.

Behind the scenes she had every symptom imaginable.  Headaches, vomiting, stomach pains, dizziness and blurred vision to name a few.  I was anxiety ridden because I knew something was wrong.  I took a call during this cupcake session from a nurse who told me she was scheduling a neuro consult for Isabella the next day.  I felt sick.  I found out the next day that the cancer had spread to her brain, her bones, her bone marrow, areas in her chest and abdomen.  She was dripping in cancer.  The disease in her brain was bleeding and we should be expecting seizures any day.  We should go home, be with our family and call our home health care nurse.  This was it.  Just yesterday she was decorating cupcakes with a smile on her face.

Look at her face.  Then look at it again and tell me if you see cancer in that picture.

That’s the thing about Isabella.  She chose to dance in the rain instead of waiting for the storm to pass.  She lived every day like she was happy to be alive.  As a matter of fact, 4 days after this picture was taken – we held the 4th annual 5k for Kids Cancer and she danced and partied until the sun went down.  She lived 282 strong days after that death sentence we received.  

The longer she has been gone, the more I have gotten to know her.  I watch Sophia become obsessed with her in her daily life.  It gets scary at times to watch her be so consumed with everything in our house that is Isabella’s.  She wears HER clothes, she watches HER High School Musical Movie on HER iTouch, and listens to HER Taylor Swift CDs as she falls asleep in her bed, on HER Pillow Pets, with HER blankies.  I have to go to Isabella’s room each morning, open her door, and hear that same creak in the door that I heard for years when waking her for the hospital.  I have to go over to her bed and see a little girl in kitty pajamas, covered in pink little blankies and wake her.  But instead, this healthy little girl has hair… this time it’s Sophia.

For Sophia, Isabella has become the ultimate role model.  She sees pictures of her doing amazing things with this bright red hair and her big smile.  She sees her enjoying every minute of her life in pictures.  Sophia doesn’t know Isabella with cancer or being defeated.  People talk so positively about her with admiration.  The story of Isabella has been built up over the years so much that Sophia wants to be just like her.  I struggle with that because I want Sophia to be her own person, and then it hit me:

I want to be like her too. 

I want to leave a lasting footprint.  I want to inspire people.  I want to make a difference in the world.  I want to leave a lasting legacy and live a life that is fulfilling and rewarding.  I want to think that my time in this world was used towards a greater purpose and lives were saved because of actions I made.  I want people to see my picture and think I was truly happy and no matter what was going on in my life, I was going to fight through it and do something monumental with my day, my year, my life.

We should all want to be like her.

Her fight and her face inspire me every day and for this reason I choose to continue raising money to make a difference and do what she would be doing if she were alive today.  She would want to save her friends and make the world a better place.

They told her she was done and she wasn’t.  And I’m not done either. 

DO. SOMETHING.

Please give to this amazing cause and ask your friends to do the same:  http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/isabellasantos/8th-annual-5k10k-for-kids-cancer

Register for the race: www.5kforkidscancer.com 

[youtube_video] sH3nELoFQHU [/youtube_video]

Fight Cancer. Run with us.

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ISABELLE’S DREAM TEAM – 2015

By Tom Patania

On March 9th, we unveiled the details for Isabella’s Dream Team – 2015. This date was picked specifically because it would have been Isabella’s 10th birthday. Not only is she the Founder of ISF, she is the inspiration behind this team. Our focus is about Isabella, and following her dream of creating a world with “no more cancer.” We continue the fight for her and the many children that are also battling cancer.

Last year, in our inaugural year, the team was filled with passionate and selfless individuals that came together to surpass our wildest expectations. The 2014 team raised $34,000. This program continues to be a volunteer based, grassroots effort without the high overhead of a large charity.  We ask each participant to fundraise a minimum of $500 (but our hope is that each will shoot for much more than that).  What we lack in advertising dollars we make up for with heart and community.

 “Though she be but little, she is fierce.” – Shakespeare

IB in race tIn an effort to grow our team and our impact, we are recruiting runners and run/walkers that want to join our mission of helping make a little girl’s dream come true.

This year each athlete has a choice. We will be training for two races:  Rock N Roll Savannah (Nov 7th) or Thunder Road (Nov 14) half or full marathons.  With this being a volunteer effort, we ask that each participant sign up for their race of choice. Our hope is that the athletes that choose to run RnR Savannah will take part in supporting and cheering for those that are running Thunder Road, and to support our Charlotte community. The ISF10K/5K for Kids Cancer (Sept 26th) will be a part of our training program, so each team member will want to sign up for that race as well.

Official team training will start the week of July 13th and training schedules will be available for both distances. Included in the training schedule will be speed & hill workouts (Blakeney area) and Saturday long runs (various locations – early morning). I highly encourage all of you to attend as many team runs as possible.

TEAMWORK MAKES THE DREAM WORK

dream teamHow to join the team?

  • Email Coach Tom at tom@isabellasantosfoundation.com with which race and distance you’re interested in and your t-shirt size.
  • Create your First Giving fundraising page by selecting: Isabella’s Dream Team 2015
    • Be sure to make this page personal. We do not ask you to cover the difference if you cannot hit $500.  We only ask for your best effort.
  • Register for your race and distance: RnR Savannah or Thunder Road
  • Get Social: tag five friends to let your network know you’ll be running with us this summer.