I married the right guy later in life. Roger Robinson is just so wonderful but I was 40 and by that time he had been married and had his family. I realized how dangerous children could truly be. So I feel maternal when I see those women run.

When I got the women's marathon into the Olympics and we had races all over the world I thought, 'That's great, now we're heading towards total equality.' Then you see that there are women who are still not allowed to drive, get an education, or travel unless they have a male companion or can't carry their passport. There are those who are mired with incredible poverty in North Africa, the mid-east, South East Asia and there's a ridiculous amount of human trafficking.

At the finish line of the 1967 Boston Marathon, one crabby journalist said it was just a one-off deal and women weren't going to run. Only a 20-year-old who had just run a marathon and was shot full of endorphin would say this but I said that there's going to come a day in our lives when women's running is as popular and as men's.

Women is out because she's getting in her daily dose of empowerment, freedom and fearlessness. She has put on her freedom wings for 20 minutes or two hours. That's going to make her whole day right and her whole future hold up and seem entirely possible. The sense of her not having any limits, or any restrictions, to me, is so liberating. She doesn't have to prove anything.

When I go to the Boston Marathon now, I have wet shoulders—women fall into my arms crying. They're weeping for joy because running has changed their lives. They feel they can do anything.

Jock Semple and I were at daggers drawn for five years, even though I kind of forgave him from the get-go. I knew he was an over-stressed race director, I knew he was protecting his race. It took five years because we had to do our homework - meaning we women - we did our legislative work and we officially got into the Boston Marathon. Then, all was forgiven by Jock Semple.

Jock Semple and I began appearing at speeches together and he came up to me on the start line in 1973 and planted a big kiss on my cheek. He said in his Scottish brogue: "Come on lass, let's get a wee bit of notoriety." He never said he was sorry but that was his way of saying it, I'm sure.