Seattle Cherry Blossom Run
The Seattle Cherry Blossom Run is a spring race held in Seattle that has grown alongside the city’s relationship with its parks, forming alongside UW Botanical Gardens and Center for Urban Horticulture in 2019. It takes place over varying weekends during cherry blossom season and is timed to embrace the shift out of winter, true to the symbology of its namesake.
The Seattle Cherry Blossom Run was founded by Jimmy Addison, who believed the start of spring deserved a gathering that felt joyful, open, and rooted in the city. In spring of 2024 it renowned it's title as the fastest growing race in the country over the prevailing 5 years.
While succumbing to his illness during the last run, Jimmy tragically passed away from brain cancer in 2024 at the age of 41.
Since Jimmy’s passing, the run continues with the support of his family, friends, and community. Today, the event is carried forward with care and intention, guided by the same spirit he set in motion. Each year is a continuation of that original vision, honoring the work started by keeping the race grounded, welcoming, and true explorative nature.
In 2026, the run is held at Seward Park and along South Lake Washington Boulevard. This year's courses provide a flatter, faster extended route for our participants. Seward Park has long been associated with Seattle’s cherry trees, offering the oldest (and first in Washington), and we're stoked to bring a new and improved experience to this beautiful part of our city!
The Gnomes
The Gnome Prizes have become a beloved emblem for the Cherry Blossom Run. While having nothing to do with the trees or spring themselves, we've found participants inquiring and missing them, wondering about their absence while we reconfigured our direction forward. In 2026 we're happy to bring them back, and get a little backstory on how they came to be, direct from the creator.
"Four Years Ago, I Thought I Was Dying.
On February 4th, 2022, I left my house so sick that I truly believed I would never come home. I was terrified. Because of COVID, there were no visitors—my family couldn’t come with me. When I arrived at the hospital, everything moved fast. They rushed to get me oxygen. My lungs weren’t working well after weeks of being sick in bed.
One of the things they needed to check for was blood clots, so they sent in an ultrasound tech. His name was Jimmy.
In my mind, I was dying. I think he knew how scared I was. He spoke to me like I was getting out of that bed soon—like I had a future. He asked me what my passion was, and I told him I make custom gnomes and love making people smile. He told me about his passion—the Cherry Blossom Run.
He stayed in my room far longer than he had to. He made me feel cared for. Seen. Loved. He even looked up my Facebook page and sent me coupons for the race—guys, I thought I was dying.
But I didn’t die.
After I got out of the hospital, I tried to find him. My brain had been low on oxygen for so long that things were foggy. I posted on Facebook about an ultrasound tech named Jimmy and what had happened. My friend Lexi commented, “That’s my Jimmy!”
What a small world.
From there, Jimmy and I had many late-night conversations. He had asked me in the hospital if I would ever want to make gnomes for his race. Of course I said yes—but I didn’t really believe I’d get the chance.
For three years, I had the honor of making gnomes for the race.
Then we lost Jimmy.
Jimmy was the kind of person who changed lives simply by showing up with kindness, compassion, and hope. His light continues to shine through every smile, every step of that race, and every act of love inspired by him.
I never thought I would have the honor of doing them again.
The other day, I was praying—asking God why I was in a difficult situation and why He wasn’t helping me get out of it. The very next day, I received a message from Sarah and Aaron, asking if I would like to make gnomes for the race again this year.
I believe that was Jimmy—reminding me to follow my passion once more.
Jimmy made a lasting, life-changing impact on my life. My prayer is that we all find a way to do something kind, something encouraging, for the people around us—in Jimmy’s name. 🤍"
-Tricia Streeter, February 23, 2026