The family of a runner who died after completing the Potters 'Arf Marathon last week have paid tribute to the man "who showed everyone how to keep going, no matter what".

Tony 'The Tiger' Knight, 73, died following a 'medical episode' upon finishing the 13.1 mile race on Sunday 28 September. He had previously taken on 50k races, multi-day endurance events, charity challenges and the Potteries Marathon.

Now his son Matthew and daughter Michelle have led the tributes to their "hero" dad, from Bucknall.

By Matthew Knight and Michelle Baker:

Our dad, Tony Knight, was more than just a runner — he was our hero.

He had a long history in the running community in Stoke-on-Trent, and it's because of him that me and my two sisters started running ourselves. Running was woven into the fabric of his life, and by extension, into ours too. 

He wasn't just good at it — he was dedicated. He once ran the Potteries Marathon in an astonishing two hours 51 minutes, a time I still look at in awe. But Dad being Dad, once he'd achieved that, he wanted more.

He got a bit bored of the distance — or maybe it was just his way of saying, "I've done that, now what else is out there?" That was when he moved on to ultras, tackling everything from 50k races to gruelling multi-day events. 

He went on to run epic trails too — taking on the Pennine Way, the Staffordshire Way and the South Downs Way, more than once. These weren't just runs; they were adventures that defined him, testing his limits and bringing him the kind of joy that only comes from being out in the open, pushing yourself against the miles. 

Dad didn't just run for himself, though. He took on numerous crazy charity endeavours, often dreaming up the toughest, quirkiest challenges he could think of — and then throwing himself at them with everything he had.

That was part of his character: never taking the easy option, always finding a way to make it tougher and more meaningful. It was during one of those challenges that "Tony the Tiger" was born. Running marathons dressed as a tiger became his thing, and it stuck with him for the rest of his life. 

And when running wasn't enough, he turned to cycling. Most weekends, he'd be out on his bike for hours, riding huge distances across middle England or heading all the way out to North Wales — just to see the sea. He'd turn around and cycle back the same day, clocking up miles most people wouldn't believe. 

What made him special wasn't just the running or the cycling — it was his attitude to life. When he was diagnosed with prostate cancer, doctors told him he'd lose 50% of his fitness. Most people would have been devastated. Not Dad. His reply was simple: "Then I'll just get 50% fitter." And he meant it. He joined the gym, kept training, and never stopped believing in what he could do. 

For me, he'll always be remembered as a man who pushed himself, not for medals or recognition, but to see how far he could go — and to give something back to others while he did it. He passed on to me and my sisters not just a love of running, but a way of looking at life: with determination, humour, and heart. 

Dad will always be "Tony the Tiger" to the running world, but to me, he'll always just be Dad — the man who showed everyone how to keep going, no matter what.