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.
I organized this global series of races. The data from those races, along with the tremendous amount of lobbying and meetings with federations, convinced the IOC. We got the women's marathon in the Olympic Games in 1984. That was my dream.
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.
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.
Jock Semple said "Oh the women ran well today the Boston Marathon and they deserve to be in the race." I had to laugh. I said "Well it took us five years but anyway, we're here." It pretty much changed everything.
Most people don't know this but over the course of time, the official of the race in 1967 in Boston, who attacked me Jock Semple and I became very good friends. That gave me a whole new perspective on forgiveness.
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.
