At 87, her inspirational story resonates as if Lord Porritt had just hung the long jump gold medal around her neck.

“The New Zealand supporters came down to the track and carried me around shoulder-high. To see the flag go up and hear the anthem played, that was the highlight of my career.”

Corlett channels serenity. In fact, she puts you at such ease that referencing her in print as “Corlett” rather than “Yvette” seems too formal. Her toothy grin remains as wholesome as it did beaming for the cameras after the Games. With no New Zealand success in 1948 at London, her’s was the country’s first Olympic medal since Jack Lovelock stormed to 1500m glory at Berlin 16 years earlier.

Even today, the disc beams in her hands when removed from its bespoke box. Corlett is immaculately attired for our chat, a nod to a lifetime of methodical preparation, the type which launched her into history as the country’s first female Olympic champion.

She’s had her share of health setbacks. An abscess on the brain was removed 10 years ago, which slowed her speech. She has recovered from bowel cancer and heart surgery. Each time she has fought back stronger.

Adult destinies can often be traced to pivotal childhood moments. Corlett was born Yvette Winifred Williams in Dunedin, the daughter of Tom and Winnie. Her brother Roy became a Commonwealth Games decathlon champion in Kingston in 1966 and a respected sports journalist.

Father Tom offered a hint at the family’s pedigree as a grenade-throwing champion in the Australian army during World War I. Mother Winnie was a highland dancing champion. Meld in the siblings’ legendary competitiveness on the front lawn in anything from hurdling to wrestling, and a champion recipe emerged.

“Life was different,” Corlett says. “There was no TV or cellphones to distract us so we had to make our own fun.”

You don’t have to be Hercule Poirot to decipher some of the other clues to her career path.

“My grandad had a neatly manicured flower garden and we used to try jumping across from one side to the other. I remember him saying ‘don’t ruin my flowers’ so you had to get the jump right. They also had a big pear tree which I loved to climb.

“When I was about 10, I also used to run from the doorway to our bedroom and leap onto the top bunk.”

In 1948 Corlett met fitness instructor Jim Bellwood at an athletic training school in Timaru. He had survived three years in a German POW camp before rehabilitating in England and returning to New Zealand with his Estonian wife Emilie.

“I went to learn the basic elements of different events, then fortunately they came to live in Dunedin,” Corlett says. “On Sundays we’d go to St Clair and St Kilda. Up on the sand dunes we’d practise the hitchkick, leaping off the top.”

When the Bellwoods moved to Auckland, Corlett followed, staying with Aunty Ruby and Uncle Alan in Devonport. She used their spare room to train.

“There were no gymnasiums in those days, so I couldn’t do weight training, but Jim suggested lifting concrete blocks. I made sandbags to hook over my feet so I could lie on my back for leg raises and work on my stomach muscles.”

Army boots were also worn in training schedules because “when they came off you could almost fly”.

Corlett had not heard of the Olympics until the Otago Daily Times sports editor Teddy Isaacs suggested it as an option in 1948. After packing her self-sewn uniform, the world’s No.1 women’s long jumper flew to Helsinki, where her life changed forever.

Corlett's career was short by modern athletic standards. She came to prominence at the 1950 Empire Games with her long jump victory, went to her solitary Olympics, and then won the shot put, discus and long jump at the Empire Games in Vancouver. The latter two results were achieved simultaneously because the Duke of Edinburgh was late. Events were delayed in his ‘honour’.

Amid those halcyon days, Corlett’s homecoming memory from Finland is indelible.

“I stayed in London for six weeks after the Games and competed in different countries. When I got home I thought it [the fanfare] would have died down. Suddenly, I was on my way to Western Springs for a big welcome and a fireworks display.

“My mother and father drove to Auckland to pick me up and we gradually made our way down the island. We were invited to Parliament House to meet the Prime Minister, and, as we headed through the South Island, lots of children and parents stood roadside waving flags and giving me bunches of flowers.

“Finally we arrived in Dunedin where they had organised an open top car to drive down the main street lined in bunting. At the town hall I dreaded making a speech. I preferred performing on the track and in the field.”

Corlett became a household name but, as an amateur, opportunities to capitalise on her fame were limited.

Efforts to name a rose after her and get a health stamp printed in her honour were jettisoned. A 90c stamp was later commissioned before the 2004 Athens Games, but an Yvette Williams ‘rambler’ or ‘climber’ never eventuated because of the New Zealand Olympic Committee’s draconian policy around endorsements in that era.

After marrying Buddy Corlett in 1954, she retired before the Melbourne Olympics. The pair met when working at Auckland’s YMCA, had four children, and were married until his death last year.