Seven Miles of Salt, Sweat, and Superblasts: My Falmouth Recap with A Tribe Called Run



On August 17th, I had the privilege of lining up for the 53rd annual ASICS Falmouth Road Race with 17 other runners representing A Tribe Called Run. What started in 1973 as a seven-mile bar-to-bar dash has grown into one of the most iconic summer races in the U.S. and I can tell you firsthand, it lives up to the hype.




We gathered in Woods Hole under a sky still heavy with Cape Cod humidity after an early morning sojourn from elsewhere on the Cape or Boston. The buzz was electric: 11,400 runners and wheelchair cyclists packed shoulder-to-shoulder, volunteers hustling, and the lighthouse standing watch over us. The horn sounded and we took off straight into Falmouth’s signature rolling hills. That first mile woke up the legs fast.





For this race, I laced up in the new ASICS Superblast 2, and they delivered. At 45mm of cushion, these shoes swallowed the pounding of Falmouth’s rolling hills without ever feeling sluggish. The FF Turbo and FF Blast+ foams kept my stride springy, especially on the long, flat stretch along Surf Drive where the ocean breeze gave little reprieve from the humidity, and blistering sun. Despite the heat, my feet stayed comfortable, no hot spots, no drag. The Superblasts 2 felt made for seven miles of push and grit against a beautiful Atlantic OCean coastline. 






Running with A Tribe Called Run made the miles lighter. Our squad energy is unmatched. From pre-race laughs and photos, to warm-ups and fist bumps before the road got going. Recapping later, many shared stories of keeping another in sight and exchanged reassuring “you got this” glances. Every cheer from the spectators felt all the more amplified when moving in sync with your people. We weren’t just individuals chasing finish times; although 12 of the 17 of us set new PRs, we were moving and representing a community. 

The course itself is something special. Boasting an impressive 4 to 1 spectator ratio, the local community was just as much invested as the runners. Some neighbors waved pun-ny signs, while others, water hose in hand, created a much appreciated mist break for the runners, and more still managed lemonade stands, a stop called “orange alley”, a festive porch with music, and cold sliced oranges, and popsicles. Coupled with ocean views that steal your breath as much as the hills do, the roar and hospitality of spectators packed in along the route. And then that unforgettable final downhill into Falmouth Heights. Hearing the crowd rise as you crest the last turn is the kind of sound that carries you across the line.








This year’s race was won by Amon Kemboi of Kenya (31:12) and Ethiopia’s Melknat Wudu Sharew (36:03). I didn’t come close to those blazing times, but that was never the point. My finish was powered by community, by the salt air, and by shoes that kept me light when the sun got heavy.

Crossing the line, and enjoying a cool down in the Asics lounge at a local bar, sweaty and smiling with my teammates, I realized Falmouth isn’t just about the miles. This race has no finisher’s medal, you’ve been warned, but it’s a Cape Code tradition and a course that challenges and charms in equal measure in real time. A perfect late summer race. 

I’ll be back, and next time, the Superblasts are definitely coming with me.








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Life is the Marathon: Grief, Grit, and the Miles Between