Colin passed away a few days ago.
I first came across him as the organiser of the Works Relays, dwarfed by a big board of results in the Rugby Club. Very serious, very focused.
I saw him at a distance at the various races, he was one of the 'greats' at TAC but sort of in the background.
And then he joined our running club. He said it was because he fancied a change, he didn't want to be competitive any more, he wanted to enjoy his running...
...it was clear from the outset that he could cope with anything we threw at him with ease. He was always on your shoulder on a training run. He was equally at home with absolute beginners as he was with those at the 'sharp end'.
We ran together at the Wellington 4 mile race, I hardly knew him. I kicked for home with 400m to go and left him in my wake "If I'd gone a bit quicker, you wouldn't have got near me" was his gracious reply :0)
He claimed he was past it; he loved to tell tales about the old days when training was brutal, but he was never condescending towards us. I remember him training well one Winter though and he stunned us with a fabulous time at Chester - I think it was 1.21. We just didn't believe it!
He was the complete Club man. He would turn out whatever the weather. I remember us both getting changed back into wet kit on a cold day at Sutton Park for the second legs of our relays. Brr. No complaints from Col though. We turned up once at Aldridge airfield on the coldest of cold days, he looked around the school gym, swore quietly to himself and just got on with it. It was the same when we went to Gloucester for the cross country, we both had a great run in the mud that day, round the abandoned fridges in the dip..
He went down in club folklore one training night after an accident with a young lad on a bike. He was bashed right in the forehead and there was blood everywhere. But, plastered up, he was back again. One tough cookie. Then there was the night he had his shorts on the wrong way round, stepped off the path behind a tree to change them in broad daylight (the tree was thin, Colin was thinner, no one could see him)
..I only ever saw him tired once, at the Pontesbury Potter. We'd been out for hours, it was cold, it had been snowing, we had come down off Pontesbury Hill together. I was knackered, I'd done all of the navigating. He turned to me and said "How much further you reckon Al I'm really tired now.." He still didn't stop though, we dragged each other to the finish, in true Alf Tupper stylee..
He loved to do those long Sunday morning runs out near Kemberton. Get in a group with Col, and he would look after you no matter how slow you were or rubbish you were feeling.
The last 4 or 5 years I hadnt seen much of him, my last real running memory was when I was running Silkin Way top to bottom. I got into the Telford Town Park, feeling a bit rubbish, not looking forward to the run down to the river much, when he appeared from behind a tree....although he'd been out for an hour already... he ran all the way down to Coalport with me. He was great company, and when he'd delivered me at my destination he disappeared again into the afternoon. Boosh! Just gone..
I knew he was ill. But you never believe it in one so fit, you always thought he'd make a comeback one night, looking as pale and wasted as ever, ready to run the legs off you "till you tasted Iron in your spit". But sadly, no.
We paid our respects at the church, all runners brought back together, some after many years apart. We saw Col off on his last training run. Watch out for those kids mate!!
