When I finished the Boston race in 1967, there were two things I wanted to do. I wanted to become a better athlete because my first marathon was 4:20. In those days, that was considered a jogging time and I knew people were going to tease me. But I was more fascinated with what women could do if they only had the chance.

When I forgave Jock Semple on Heartbreak Hill, I also got really cross with women. I couldn't understand why they didn't get it, why they didn't know that running was so cool and why they weren't in the race as well. Then I thought to myself "How stupid can you be? You've had so much encouragement and motivation and these women haven't."

I forgave Jock Semple his action on Boston race just around the time I got to Heartbreak Hill. I had 24 miles to go and you cannot run 24 miles and stay angry. That's the truth. When we go out and we're mad at our boss or mad at the world, when we run, we get it out of our system.

When I was first running marathons, we were sailing on a flat earth. We were afraid we'd get big legs, grow mustaches, not get boyfriends, not be able to have babies. Women thought that something would happen to them, that they'd break down or turn into men, something shadowy, when they were only limited by their own society's sense of limitations.

I said that there's going to come a day in our lives when women's running is as popular and as men's. Looking back, I obviously had a great sense of vision. And I was right.

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.

A lack of forgiveness is a waste of time and it's very enriching to forgive and move on but those are things that come with time.