There have been thousands of Colorado Springs police officers serving since the city since its founding in 1872, but none wore the badge more honorably or proudly than Steve Pugsley.

Steve, who passed away last month in Maui after a nearly two-year battle with multi-organ systemic cancer, was 64. We were friends and running buddies for nearly 30 years.

When Officer Pugsley retired in 2019 from the CSPD after 29 years on the force (plus 6 years with the Chicago PD), he bid farewell in his usual understated fashion. Steve had a simple yet profound message for his fellow officers: “Take care of your heads, your bodies, you hearts, our citizens – and one another.” His final words proved personally prescient:

“No matter what challenge you encounter, however fierce the foe, give it all you’ve got,” he urged. “Leave nothing out there. You’ll never know how far you can go until you’ve gone too far.”

Steve went far in his 35 years of policing, both metaphorically and literally. A member of the Bomb Squad, he found himself pushed to the brink on numerous occasions. He took on fire as one of the first on the scene of the shooting at Planned Parenthood in 2015. He dodged the flames of the Waldo Canyon blaze in 2012.

In 2002 and 2004, Steve took on a special assignment to protect the Olympic Torch as it made its way around the world. He ran thousands of miles beside torchbearers, sometimes up to 40 miles a day. He saw it as a responsibility but also a privilege to help protect the symbol of the Olympic Games.

Back patrolling the streets of Colorado Springs in his patrol car, Steve kept his trunk each winter filled with hats, coats and gloves – all of which he paid for with his own money. “Nobody dies of the cold on my watch,” he liked to say. He knew many of those facing the greatest challenges by name. He was also a member of the Bomb Squad.

Steve was a faithful and devoted husband to Kathy and father to Jake and Bobby. If he wasn’t working or spending time with them, he liked to run – far and often. We ran numerous marathons together, including New York City. How Steve tackled the five boroughs that November day said a whole lot about how he viewed life itself.

Steve said he wanted to soak up as much of the city and its people as was possible. This was before smartphones, so he tucked a disposable camera into a fanny pack. He stopped to snap a photo or have a conversation whenever something or someone intrigued him. To Pugs, the world was wonderful, wide and not to be wasted.

The cancer diagnosis came as a shock – a bolt out of the blue. Doesn’t it always?

Steve sent me a text. “Paul, you know I’ve run in a lot of races, but to be forced into the race FOR my life is quite a different thing. I’ve had the most awesome life I could ever have imagined. I just don’t think I’m ready to let the back cover of the book close just yet. My lungs are both heavily impacted. But, I am not a quitter. So into the ring I go. I am standing ready to fight.”

That fight included 26 rounds of chemotherapy. Through it all, Steve kept running, then walking. He played softball and even swam. Back on November 21st, I woke up to a text message: “The time is close, buddy.”

He sent a final group text: “Over the last two weeks, I’ve been sliding hard down a steep advanced ski slope, not in a good way. This journey called life has been amazing. None of us get out of here walking.” But as a Christian, Steve wasn’t fearful. “Knowing where I’m going sure does help,” he added. “The gift none of us can earn and none of us deserve. I guess I just receive this gift a bit earlier than I ever expected. Love you all so so much. You all have made me ME.”

I have a photo of Steve at the top of the Incline. It was a hike he loved. He tackled it again on a trip back to visit earlier this year, cancer and all. He wrote across the top, “Don’t wait till you can’t.”

Before we die, let’s all live more like Steve Pugsley.

Paul J. Batura is a local writer and founder of the 4:8 Media Network. He can be reached via email Paul@PaulBatura.com or on X @PaulBatura.