Kathrine Switzer faced physical and verbal attacks during the 1967 Boston Marathon, but refused to quit the race
NEED TO KNOW
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Her historic run led to the inclusion of women in the Boston Marathon starting in 1972
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Switzer continues to empower women globally through her nonprofit 261 Fearless and celebrates her legacy in running events
When Kathrine Switzer stepped up to the start line at the Boston Marathon in 1967, she knew she had done everything she could to train for the moment.
The then-20-year-old Switzer, a Syracuse University student, had spent months working alongside cross-country assistant coach Arnie Briggs, logging hundreds of miles in preparation for the big day to prove that she could do it.
Nearly 60 years later, ahead of the 2026 Boston Marathon, Switzer caught up with PEOPLE to talk about her experience and share what made her keep going even after she "was attacked in the race."
While no woman had ever officially run the Boston Marathon, Switzer was determined to be the first. Leading up to the race, Switzer tells PEOPLE she didn't hide the fact that she was a woman.
At her coach's advice, she registered for the race and signed up as K.V. Switzer, the name she had been using since she was 13, inspired by journalists who signed their work with their initials. She paid the entry fee, and on race day, her coach picked up the bibs for everyone in their group.
Despite hoping to wear "really cute maroon shorts" and a matching top, she ultimately had to wear a sweatsuit due to the cold weather and sleet, which she was used to after months of training in Upstate New York.
As she looked down to pin her bib, reality set in when she saw her name, K.V. Switzer, next to her number, 261.
"I wasn't disguised," she emphasizes. "I didn't have a hood up. I had on a sweater, a sweatshirt, and sweatpants because it was really freezing."
Switzer and all the runners were then pushed into the starting area, and the race officials checked off her number. She recalls thinking to herself, "Well, there's no problem, obviously."
"The guys all knew I was a girl, and were thrilled," she says. "They were coming over to me and said, 'Wish my wife would run,' or 'I wish my girlfriend would want to,' and 'You're going to go the whole way?' The gun goes off, and I felt great."
However, just a few miles in, she caught the eye of the press truck, and they immediately started "screaming at the driver to slow down" so they could ask her questions.
Soon after, however, she heard someone from the running board shouting at her, saying, "What's going on?"
"He's just shouting at me. All of a sudden, somebody pushed him and came running down the street after me, and I didn't see that," she shares.
Before she knew it, she was being accosted by the race manager, Jock Semple, who tried to remove her bib and kick her out of the race.
"I heard him at the last minute because of his leather shoes, and at the moment I turned, he was right in my face, screaming at me, 'Get the hell out of my race!' with his hand on my shoulder," she recalls.
"He said, 'Get the hell out of here and give me those numbers!'" she adds.
Switzer jumped back and turned to get away from him, but Semple pulled on the back of her shirt and grabbed at her race bib, tearing off the top corner.
"Arnie, my coach, who knew him well, they used to run together, started screaming, 'Jock, leave her alone. She's okay, I've trained her,'" Switzer recalls. "He said, 'You stay out of this,' and he pushed Arnie."
Her boyfriend at the time, Thomas Miller, was a 235-lb. All-American football player who had decided to run alongside Switzer. When Miller saw what was going on, "he clipped the official and sent him flying."
"I went, 'God, we killed him!'" she remembers. "Because he smashed him really, and so I saw him going through the air, and then I took off down the street, and Arnie said, 'Run like hell!' "
Switzer and Briggs eventually caught up to the press truck, which she says accelerated and "knocked over half the photographers." While members of the press had initially been kind to Switzer, they then started screaming at her.
"'When are you going to quit? What are you trying to prove? You're a Suffragette!'" she recalls them yelling. "Really, really aggressive stuff, and I said, 'Listen, I'm trying to run, just leave me alone, I'm trying to run.' "
As the press prodded her and questioned her intentions, she finally replied, "I'm not saying anything to you guys. If you want to cover the race, you'd better get up there with the leaders. I'm in the race, I'm staying in it. On my hands and my knees if I have to, I am finishing."
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The people on the press truck didn't believe her, but they drove off to capture the front of the race.
"Arnie said, 'Are you serious?' I said, 'I'm very serious. Everybody's always telling women that they can't do things, and when they try them, then they do something like this, so no wonder they can't do things. I'm going to finish the job.' "
With that in mind, despite the adrenaline, her coach told her that they needed to slow down, get in control, and finish the race.
"Time went on, and I was so angry at this official, and then while I was on Heartbreak Hill, I let it go," she tells PEOPLE. "I said he's a product of his time. I'm not going to convince him of anything. I'll finish the race. That probably won't convince him, but Ihaveto finish the race."
Around three to four miles away from the finish line, Switzer says she noticed a few women on the sidelines. Many of whom were watching her with their arms folded.
"But," she emphasizes, "one of them went down on her knees and was holding onto the fence, and she goes, 'Come on, honey, do it for all of us!' "
That moment made her realize that the race was bigger than her.
"I said, 'My God, if I just give them the opportunity, maybe they'll run,'" she says. "Physically, I felt great, but mentally I felt like I had so much work to do. I could see it: the years ahead. If I'm really serious about this, it's going to be hard, but it's worth doing. So, we'll do that. I crossed the finish line and said, 'Okay, time to get to work.' "
And that she did.
Many of the people who covered the race were convinced it would be Switzer's last. She remembers one of them saying, "This is just a one-off deal, you'll never run another marathon, right?" to which she replied, "One day you're going to hear about a little old lady who's 80 years old training in Central Park and drops dead. It's going to be me. I am running forever."
While change took time, it happened nonetheless.
After the marathon, the AAU banned women from competing in races against men, as women had not previously been explicitly excluded. Five years later, however, in 1972, women were officially allowed to compete in the Boston Marathon.
Switzer finished third in the 1972 Boston Marathon, and Semple, the same man who tried to stop her, presented her with her trophy.
Switzer, now 79, tells PEOPLE that she continues to run 30 to 40 miles a week. Her experience with the Boston Marathon led to her creating women-only events because they could be nonintimidating and welcoming, and women "really responded."
Through her global nonprofit, 261 Fearless, Switzer continues the mission she first set out on, building a worldwide community that uses running as a vehicle to empower women of all backgrounds to realize their strength — physically, mentally and socially.
To celebrate the 50th anniversary of running the Boston Marathon, Switzer ran the race again in 2017 to help raise money for her charity and her nonprofit.
"It was one of the happiest days of my life, actually. It was the first time that women were fifty-fifty. At the finish line, waiting for me with a medal, I could see Joann Flaminio from the top of Boylston Street, the first woman president of the Boston Athletic Association. It was a momentous occasion," Switzer shares.
The whole experience was "so much fun."
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"I stopped 13 times on the course. Everybody had a sign. Women were holding little girls and saying, 'Please kiss my little girl,'" she remembers. "Everybody out there knew about it. They'd say, 'There goes Kathrine.' I didn't have Kathrine on my shirt or anything, but the fact that they knew the history and were appreciative of it, rather than scorning it."
In this year's race on April 20,Switzer's261 Fearlessrunners are sponsored byAvon. Switzer previously served as Avon's Global Running Ambassador and helped expand the brand's international running programs, including the Avon International Running Circuit, the largest women's running series in the world at the time, which raised awareness and funds for breast cancer and other critical causes affecting women.
Switzer has transformed the landscape of athletics for women and hopes to continue that legacy by showing women how running can serve as a vehicle to empower and unite.
"When I'm running, the guy next to me is a different race from me, doesn't speak English, the person on my right, I don't know their gender, and we don't care. As long as they can run, we're running together," Switzer says. "At the end, we hug each other,all stinking and sweating. I would give my life for them during that time. We will never see each other again after some time. It's a phenomenal feeling."
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Kathrine Switzer faced physical and verbal attacks during the 1967 Boston Marathon, but refused to quit the race NEED TO KNOW ...
