Rob Matthews, pictured at the Atlanta games in 1996, won eight Paralympic gold medals. Photo / Getty Images
Rob Matthews, pictured at the Atlanta games in 1996, won eight Paralympic gold medals. Photo / Getty Images
For a blind runner competing in the Southern Cross Country Championships, navigating nine miles of a muddy parkland course in the company of a thousand sighted athletes was daunting enough.
But on this particular afternoon, some 30 years ago, there was the added complication of a ditch that could be cleared in a single leap by most of the field but presented rather more of a challenge to Rob Matthews.
Three times, as his guide that day, we tried to clear that damn ditch without breaking stride and three times we hit the deck.
Not once did Rob complain. Not once did he suggest that the then teenager attached to him by a short, double-looped rope might wish to time the moment when he said 'now' with a touch more precision.
This was one of the many occasions when I found myself in awe of the bravest man I've ever known; a man who overcame so much adversity during a remarkable life and one of the finest careers in British sporting history.
He was the first blind runner to break two minutes for 800m - that performance in Brighton alongside our coach, Vic Smith, was one of 22 world records he set - and between 1984 and 2000 won eight Paralympic gold medals, normally the result of a fierce finishing kick.
In his prime he was so good he regularly sought competition against sighted athletes, and for two consecutive Paralympics dominated middle distance running with golds in the 800m, 1500m and 5000m.
Such was his success in Seoul in 1988 his photograph appeared on the front page of The Times. In the guide to the London 2012 Paralympic Games he was listed as one of eight 'iconic athletes'.
Rob was so dedicated. Not content with riding all day on a tandem in France with a group of mates, he insisted we also cram in a running session before dinner mindful of the fact that the Seoul Games were only two or three months away.
But it was the thousands of miles he covered alone on a treadmill that provided the foundation on which his success was built, and the fact that he was so unflappable even when outings with new training partners went disastrously wrong.
Most of his guide runners became lifelong friends but the guy who ran him straight into a lamppost on their first outing together didn't return for a second session. The poor chap was mortified.
Rob lost his sight at 20, the consequence of being born with a degenerative eye condition called retinitis pigmentosa that he inherited from his father.
It hit him hard as a young man, understandably, and Rob always said athletics was his salvation.
'Running has allowed me to dream,' he wrote in his 2009 autobiography. 'It's given me confidence and self-esteem, and enabled me to see that I'm inferior to no-one.'
Rob was anything but. He was a guy who defied his disability to take up cross-country skiing, drive a rally car and play golf.
With his first wife, Kath, he bought a tandem after catching the cycling bug on that trip in 1988 and pedalled all over Europe.
He had an amazing lust for life, a fantastic sense of humour, and always took a keen interest in other people. It helped him forge a career as a sports massage therapist.
He also received an MBE in recognition of his sporting achievements.
Paralympic athlete Rob Matthews speaks at the announcement of a new athlete career program for New Zealand Paralympian, Olympic and elite athletes on November 8, 2011 in Auckland. Photo / Getty Images
Rob married Kath in 1994 and they had some wonderful years together in Leamington Spa. But one night in 2003, only hours after falling ill with what the family thought was little more than a virus, Kath died of a brain haemorrhage. She was 38.
I have a haunting image of Rob standing alone at the grave at Kath's funeral and his family and friends were deeply concerned for his wellbeing. At that time in his life, Derek Jones, another guide runner, and his family provided incredible support. As did Rob's sisters.
Again, however, running came to Rob's rescue, offering some direction; a form of much needed therapy. He competed in his seventh Paralympic Games in Athens the following summer.
It was on a trip to New Zealand in 2006, however, that Rob found happiness again. He met Sarah, an interior designer, and after something of a whirlwind romance moved to be with her in Auckland.
The following year they were married, their son Thomas arriving that October.
Three years later and their daughter, Molly, was born and Rob, for all the success he had enjoyed as an athlete, for the good years he had with Kath, had never been more content.
His children completed him, and he dedicated his book - Molly had not yet arrived - to his young son.
All he wanted to do was raise those kids but in 2016 came the awful news. Rob had a brain tumour, grade four, the most aggressive kind.
In trying to tackle the illness he displayed the same courage, the same fighting spirit, he had shown his entire life. But earlier on Wednesday, just after 1pm in New Zealand, Rob lost his battle with a brutal disease. He was 56.
'I've had an extraordinary life,' he wrote on the final page of his book. 'I've been fortunate enough to know the love of two incredible women, and to experience the immense love of my own son.
'I have had the support and love of family, friends and guide runners who have enabled me, with their descriptions, to see through their eyes.'
