I can’t remember the first time I met Andy, but he quickly become a fixture at the parkrun volunteers’ “High Table” in Dulwich Park café.  Always fun to be around, he was a master of the results processing system and was the person I’d turn to when as Run Director I got stuck; in practice, most weeks I was in the role.   He always came across as so calm, unruffled.  When he was in charge, he was staggeringly laid back whilst organising the volunteers, checking the equipment and giving the briefing in what for every other Run Director was a mad, hectic, nerve-wracking few minutes before unleashing the mob.  Even whilst fighting his dreadful disease, he continued to volunteer faithfully.   Andy didn’t like to be called brave, or stoic, but I often wondered what was going through his mind as he overheard us discussing our first world problems back in the café.
 
In the good old days when we were allowed to go to the boozer, Lucy and Andy regularly joined us on our Friday night meet ups at the Lordship. It was always a delight when they came along and I knew how lucky I was to have the two of them just around the corner.   We were all looking forward to their more extended company over a long weekend away in the Peak District.  It wasn’t to be.   
 
When I fell ill, Andy was generous with advice and experience.  I remember us laughing at how it would look to outsiders, as he showed me how to “shoot up” (anti-coagulation jabs) in my bathroom.  I will never ever forget how he offered to accompany me to one of my scans; this, a man who’d spent weeks in hospital, volunteering his spare time to visit again.  It was probably the last place he wanted to be, yet he was willing to help. 
 
It is so achingly sad that after everything Andy had gone through in the last couple of years, he lost his final battle, but that is the Andy I will remember; witty, fun and generous, and a rock to his lovely wife Lucy.  
 
We miss you Andy, rest in peace.
 
Anthony