A History of the Race

By OLIVIA DEPUNTE

The Falmouth Road Race began with one man and a dream. That man was Thomas F. Leonard, former US Marine, fitness fanatic and local bartender. What started as a run from one local watering hole to another grew into something larger than Leonard ever could have imagined. 

What has lovingly been called a “bar to bar” race in its origin days was conceptualized by a bartender with a desire to bring a little healthy competition to the community. The Enterprise reported in 1973 that “Some have taken the race seriously enough to give up cigarettes and beer until the finish line is crossed.” 

Despite the free beer and buffet at the finish line, Tommy Leonard envisioned the race as a way to promote a healthy culture. The running phenomenon did not sweep the nation until the ’70s, with US running celebrities like Bill Rodgers rising to fame. Little did Leonard know his idol would grace the Falmouth Road Race with his presence only years later.

Looking back, Leonard saw the 1970s running boom as “a counter-revolution against the drug culture.” He told the Boston Globe, “I think the Falmouth Road Race had a lot to do with it. I saw a lot of kids who were into drugs. Wasting their lives away. I said, ‘Try running.’ It’s a natural high. You can say, ‘I’ve done something for my body.’” 

On a dreary, windswept rainy Wednesday in August 1973, 98 runners stood ready at the starting line in front of the Captain Kidd on Water Street.

The first race had a $2 entrance fee, and all proceeds went to funding the Falmouth High girls’ track team. Fourteen track girls signed up to race, and they made up the small female population among the entrants. 

That first race included big league runner John Kelly, who over the span of his running career finished 42 Boston Marathons, winning twice and coming in second 11 times. The 66-year-old from East Dennis was the oldest entrant in the race and wore his #1 number proudly. He ended up placing 17th with a time of 47:30.

The winner, David Duba, was a 21-year-old senior from Grosse Pointe, Michigan, vacationing on the Cape. With his eyes on the prize, he never lost his lead and was 30 yards ahead of the rest when he crossed the finish line in 39 minutes and 16 seconds. His first personal victory in distance running will forever go down in history as a landmark in a race that quickly evolved from amateur to world-class.

Only five years later, the first 100 runners would pass Duba’s winning time.

After the race’s first year as a baby, Leonard hoped to make it full-grown. “With so many entrants in the race, Mr. Leonard is dreaming now of a standard 26-mile marathon, Hyannis to Falmouth, next year,” the Enterprise reported. “It’ll be bigger than the Boston Marathon.” 

Although the race never grew from its 7-mile structure, its prestige grew quickly. The following year saw almost 500 participants, and the Greater Boston Track Club sent runners, one of whom, William (Bill) Rodgers, won after a close race with Marty Liquori with a 34:16 time. He couldn’t outrun the meter however, and his car was towed while he raced. 

The comparisons to the Boston Marathon started rolling in that year, much to Leonard’s delight. “It was like a miniature Boston Marathon and a pleasure to run,” said Jack McDonald, director of Greater Boston Track Club.

Unlike the downpours of the first race, the second one was hot enough to send five runners to the hospital. “On a scorcher like that,” said McDonald, “running by the sea drives you crazy. It’s like running by 1,000 lemonade stands.”

One legendary runner, Giles Threadgold, was even reported to give into the sea’s temptations: “At the end of Clinton Avenue he dove into the harbor, swam across, trotted past the yacht club and rejoined the runners on Grand Avenue.”

The Threadgold strategy, delightful as it is, would have been frowned upon after tighter rules and regulations were set in place in 1975, the year the race got the Amateur Athletic Union sanction.

The 1975 race soon became a race between two men: old Olympic champion Frank Shorter versus young upstart Bill Rodgers. Shorter was famed as the 1972 Olympic marathon champion and #1 ranked runner in the world from 1972 to 1974. Rodgers, on the other hand, was just coming off his record-setting Boston Marathon win, with the fourth all-time fastest marathon time in the world. At 2 hours 9 minutes and 55 seconds, Rodgers shattered Shorter’s American record by 40 seconds. 

The Rodgers versus Shorter showdown stirred up crowds that were recalled to make “Water Street look like Rio at carnival time or Paris on Bastille Day,” despite the gray sky and drizzle. Leonard stressed that, “The spectators are just as important as the runners,” and made sure everyone was well fed and libated, with a reported 1,500 glasses of beer and uncounted bowls of chowder dispensed within the hour. 

In the paradox of celebration and athleticism that is the true spirit of the road race, the athletes remained focused. Shorter won a tight 11-second victory over Rodgers with a time of 33:24. Like a true gentleman, the Enterprise reported that Shorter “waited for Rodgers around a corner from the finish line. He refused to acknowledge photographers’ requests for pictures until he had shaken hands with Rodgers.” The two rivals even dined together in Woods Hole that night.

First to zip down the course in a wheelchair was Bob Hall, who finished a strong 222nd that year. The 23-year-old from Belmont was the first wheelchair athlete and went on to have eight consecutive wins in his division, even as his competition grew. He later became known as a world leader and advocate for the inclusion of disabled athletes. 

The 1977 field of 3,000 runners was more star-studded than ever before, with the women’s division finally gaining some notoriety of its own with the addition of Kim Merritt, a Boston Marathon champion. She finished first in 89th place with a time of 38:49, setting a new course record for fastest women’s time. 

With 358 women in the race, it was the largest field yet. One runner, Susan Blackston of Brighton, reasoned: “I saw old guys with beer guts do it last year, so I figured I could do it, too. If more women thought they could make it, I’m sure they’d run, it’s just a matter of confidence.” 

The 1977 race saw a determined Bill Rodgers. The Enterprise described that, “Rodgers, his face streaming with lines from the strain, kept running as though his life actually depended on it.” Legend has it that, “When he learned he had broken last year’s record time of 33:13, he exclaimed, ‘You’re kidding me!’ with a big, satisfied smile.” 

Bob Hall set the trend for wheelchair athletes, with eight competitors wheeling up to race. Everyone cheered on those athletes most, and “Spectator admiration seemed to rise to its highest peaks when wheelchairs came rocketing down Brothers Four hill to the finish line.” Bob Hall finished in 39:30, first in the division. 

Another notable addition in 1977 was the road race’s first sponsor: Perrier Mineral Water, being advertised with all active participants wearing orange T-shirts with black letters spelling out “Perrier – Falmouth Road Race Official.”

Free bottles of Perrier water were handed out to the runners. “It tastes okay,” said one runner, Dominic Friscino of Brighton. “But I wish it was beer.” 

The entrance fee up to $5 and the donation from Perrier up to $20,000 in 1980, Leonard’s dream had turned into the event of the season. One runner, Lou Jacobson of Boston, commented, “The whole day is like a big party.” 

For most, road race day is a party. But for the chosen few, it is a test of athleticism. With just 19 seconds separatinwg the top five finishers, competition was red hot. This year, New Zealand Olympian Rod Dixon led the whole way. He was quoted saying, “They gave me my number last night, number 71. I cut off the seven.” 

In the women’s division, Grete Waitz of Norway also swept the field. She was just coming off of her victory at the New York Marathon with a record-breaking time. It was her first marathon ever.

Before the race, co-director John Carroll had said, “Some of the men say that if Grete comes, they’ll just sit back and watch. They are afraid of being beaten by her.” Her nonchalant reply was, “I think the men worry more about being beaten by me than I even think about running against them.”

Men certainly weren’t ungrounded in that fear. With a time of 37:12, she placed as #104 out of a field of 4,000 runners, breaking yet another course record. 

Dixon and Waitz were the first two foreign champions at Falmouth, setting the trend for many to come.

Many of the big names in 1980 came back to play the next year. Race co-organizer John Carroll predicted that “You get people like Shorter and Virgin and Dixon in the race and everyone wants to come.”      

His prediction certainly came true; with a 4,000 max capacity set, Carroll and his administrative assistant, Courtney Bird, had to cut around 600 entrants from the race. Everyone cut was guaranteed entrance the following year.

And 1982 was a monumental year for the Falmouth Road Race, as it was named the best American road race of that year by a poll of top runners in Runners World Magazine. If that wasn’t feather in their cap enough, the road race organizers were also awarded the Nurmi Award, the highest accolade in their field. 

Road race co-organizer Richard Sherman said winning the Nurmi is like winning “the Academy Award of road racing.” With their budget of $80,000 as compared to the New York Marathon’s budget of $1 million, “to be put in the same category as those races is satisfying.” 

The 10th anniversary race didn’t disappoint; it was one of the fastest races to date with four of the top seven all-time best times run. Salazar defended his title in top form, ending with a time of 31:53, which would stand as the course record even into the 1990s. 

Joan Benoit also came back faster and stronger with her fastest time of 36:33, clearing Waitz’s record time by a full 40 seconds. 

In 1983, the Enterprise reported that, “The Falmouth Road Race has entered the high-technology arena.” The race finally made the switch to a computer system, donated by Wang Laboratories of Lowell, to tally the results. From this year on, race time results were ready within the hour rather than the usual weeks-long wait of anticipation.

Anticipation still ran sky-high the day of the race with a stacked field of competitors. Salazar, however, didn’t try for his third straight win because he was recovering from a case of bronchitis. He opted to watch the race from the press truck instead. 

Joan Benoit, with a big toe so infected she had to cut a hole in her shoe to run, still rallied to the challenge. She kept her winning streak for the third year in a row and broke her own record by 12 seconds with a time of 36:21. This was her fifth Falmouth win collectively, more than any other runner. 

She told the Enterprise after her victory, “It doesn’t get any easier. I felt fairly strong. I ran hard the whole way.” 

In the male field, the winner was Joseph Nzau, a 31-year-old Kenyan with a strong time of 32:20. He signed up for the race on a whim less than a week before, when “he decided to run in Falmouth because he wanted to see more of the country.”

Nzau ran neck and neck with a fellow Kenyan, Simeon Kigen, who finished second. It was Kigen’s second road race ever. With a spectacular first- and second-place victory, 1983 will forever go down in history as the year the Kenyans first swept the field.

Eight foreign countries supplied well over a dozen runners each, and the foreign runners in the men’s division finished among nine of the 21 first positions that year. 

Off the back of their awards, the race organizers made some big changes to the money flow in 1984. They switched sponsorship from “wish it was beer” Perrier to Puma and Energizers Track Club, signing a $75,000 one-year contract in secret. 

Jane Lazgin, the spokesman for Perrier, said, “We had no idea they were negotiating with another sponsor.” Apparently neither did race creator Tommy Leonard. He “was hurt” because he had not been told about the negotiations with the new sponsor and felt that “the race would not be where it is without them (Perrier).”

Leonard did not agree with the switch because “I’m from the old school. I like to stick with the people who helped you out in the beginning.” Perrier had been a loyal sponsor since 1977, but when they budgeted $40,000 for the race even after Carroll and Sherman had asked for double, they turned to new sponsors. 

“What we feel is necessary and what they felt was necessary was worlds apart,” Carroll said. “What we did was very, very good and very, very beneficial for the race and the town.”

Not all agreed with that statement. After the whole snafu, Leonard sent a letter of resignation to Sherman and Carroll. Despite the situation leading to his retirement, he left the race in their hands with only positive wishes. “I planted the seed, and now it’s their turn,” said Leonard. “I have no hard feelings. No one works harder than those two, and I wish them the best.” 

With the income flow, Sherman and Carroll could cover more runners’ expenses to bring in more up-and-coming Olympians. This year also marked the first-time prize money was doled out above the table. A total of $46,350 was allotted with $28,200 for the top 20 men finishers and $18,150 for the top women finishers.

They ended up attracting 5,000 entrants and enticing 15 Olympic runners to compete. The two weeks recovery time between the Olympics and the Falmouth Road Race deterred many more potential racers, however, and the race ended up lacking its usual star-studded field. According to the Enterprise, “Falmouth Road Race co-directors John J. Carroll Jr. and Richard A. Sherman are calling it anybody’s race.”

Another one of the co-directors’ solutions to smooth out any remaining bumps in the race was to enact staggered start times. Twenty wheelchair athletes lined up at the starting line first, and the record number of entrants were off with a bang 10 to 15 minutes earlier than the rest. Thomas Foran ended up unseating eight-time winner Bob Hall, with a time of 31:7:6.

Among the fields, two first-timers emerged victorious. Joan E. Nesbit, from Chapel Hill, North Carolina, won in 37:12, even beating Grete Waitz’s time. At the post-race ceremony she said, “It was the first time I’ve been to Falmouth, but I don’t think it will be the last. It was thrilling. Thank you.” 

Men’s winner Dave Murphy added on, “I think it’s a great day for going to the beach and getting a few beers.” The up-and-coming runner from Great Britain won in 32:17 with the fourth-fastest time ever recorded.

Murphy tightly defended his title in the next highly competitive year for his second straight win. With some heated action on the field, Murphy surged ahead with a time of 32:04, the third-fastest record time no less. He was quoted saying, “I’m very pleased to retain this title because of some criticism that we had a weak field last year.”

According to the Enterprise, “If anyone doubted that this year’s Falmouth Road Race has one of the best groups of world-class runners ever assembled here or elsewhere on US soil, those doubts faded yesterday.” 

The 1985 race was replete with world-class runners, and Sherman even said, “It’s the post-Olympic surge we were hoping for last year,” with nearly two dozen Olympians at the starting line. Their hopes came through in this dream race, which came down to a three-men sprint to the finish among Murphy, Steve Jones of Wales, and Rob de Castella of Australia. The three of them exchanged the lead several times, forcing a hard and fast pace on all front runners. The win depended on a hard sprint up the final hill when Murphy broke free. Jones came in second four seconds later and de Castella followed soon after in third.

Despite some competition against “runaway women’s favorite” Franci Larrieu-Smith, Joan Benoit swooped in for her sixth win. She even broke the course record she set in 1983. After a break from training for her wedding, this felt to her like a strong return to her running career in the place where it all started. “This is home, and I didn’t want to disappoint the crowd,” she said. “This has always been one of my favorite races. This is where I really started, and maybe this is where I’ll end.”

Another new star welcomed to the arena was George Murray, from St. Petersburg, Florida, who was the first wheelchair road racer whose expenses were paid by the race directors. He was the top-ranked wheelchair racer in the world and set a new course record of 30:49.

After a spectacular turnout the previous year, the road race was selected again as one of the top 20 road races in the country by The Runner Magazine.

Since then, winners have come from Great Britain, Mexico, Ecuador, Italy, Portugal, Morocco, South Africa, Russia, the Netherlands, Ethiopia, Burundi, Canada, and, of course, Kenya. Since Joseph Nzau’s 1983 victory, an astounding 22 Kenyan men and 15 women have ruled the roads. 

The race has expanded from a local bar-to-bar run to a truly global event. In 2019, more than 11,000 crossed the finish line in Falmouth Heights.

Beyond the race itself, The Falmouth Road Race Inc. has done much to make a positive impact in the community. According to its website, in 2019 there were nearly 3,000 runners who generated $5 million for 150 nonprofits, bringing the total to more than $40 million since 2000. FRR Inc. has also awarded more than $3.7 million in grants, community contributions, donations and scholarships for high school graduates residing in Falmouth.

It truly takes a village; thanks to the combined efforts of directors Rich and Kathy Sherman and John and Lucia Carroll and 2,000 volunteers, the race has run like a well-oiled machine ever since the 15th year on. The team stepped down in 2011 after nearly four decades of service, and technology manager Matt Auger served as acting director. The next year, Dave McGillivray, the well-known endurance athlete and director of the Boston Marathon, took over as Falmouth’s director.

2019 marked the passing of beloved road race legend and founder Tommy Leonard, who died that January at the age of 85. “We were a band of brothers,” Leonard had once said. “It was a race born out of friendship—those who were already friends and those who would become friends.” His spirit will forever live on in the 50th year of a race that started with nothing more than a man and a dream.