Belle Tout and the rave run across the South Downs

STANDING proud atop Beachy Head with a sweeping, panoramic view of the English Channel is the old Belle Tout lighthouse - an astonishing Grade II listed building which was once moved away from the cliff edge for fear the nearly 200-year-old building would fall into the sea.

On a glorious Monday evening after work, my friend Helen and I took a run out to Belle Tout, climbing steadily out of Eastbourne to the top of Beachy Head overlooking the familiar red and white striped lighthouse, before setting off across the rolling South Downs towards the Belle Tout at the end of the peninsula.

This was one of those dreamy, rave runs set against a perfectly blue sky, a cool breeze, evening sunshine and the most spectacular of surroundings. The chalky hills provided challenging climbs but the reward standing beside Belle Tout was immense.

When we set out from the promenade for the slow and steady climb out of Eastbourne to Beachy Head, we both felt rough and clunky. Those first couple of miles of running are always the worst, when your legs feel so heavy, your stomach is churning and your mind is telling you that you might as well give up and turn back.

But then once your feet settle onto the soft, springy grass at the start of the South Downs, the breathing becomes a little easier, your legs a little less leaden as together Helen and I pushed up the sharp hills sychronised in our footsteps, one trying to keep up with the other not wanting to sit off the pace.

The reward for those efforts were awesome, a dawning realisation as your eyes swept across the amazing vista of the Downs that this was why you run. Mentally photograph the scene, capture the physically feelings of well-being, store the data and use it every time you're sloping around the home making excuses for not running.

The run out to Belle Tout was undulating; sharp downhills and leg-aching climbs while skirting the clifftops and the sheer drop below. It was thrilling and liberating by the time we made the final climb up a chalky path to the old lighthouse.

There has been a lighthouse at Belle Tout ever since 1928, when a temporary wooden structure rested on the rocky outpost to ward over shipping from straying too close to the rocks around Beachy Head; the scene of numerous shipwrecks in the 17th and early 18th centuries. The current granite building became operational in 1834 when it needed two gallons of oil every hour to operate the 30 oil lamps.

However, Belle Tout was not a successful lighthouse, and was eventually decommissioned in 1902 when the Beachy Head lighthouse was built. Part of the problem was that the lighthouse became obscured by sea mists which swept across the cliff-top beacon, and vessels sailing too close to the famous white cliffs could not see the lighthouse.

So Trinity House sold off Belle Tout, which has since had several owners, and was once badly damaged by Canadian artillery fire during the Second World War during tank practice.

In recent years, this iconic landmark building has been the scene of the TV mini series "The Life and Loves of a She-Devil" and in the James Bond film "The Living Daylights".

Today, it is now a bed and breakfast which once received a TV makeover from Lawrence Llewellyn-Bowen, and charges over £200 a night at weekends.

One of the remarkable aspects of Belle Tout is that in 1999, thanks to a remarkable feat of engineering, the former lighthouse was moved 17 metres away from the cliff face. The 850-ton lighthouse was moved using a pioneering system of hydraulic jacks which pushed the building along four steel-topped concrete beams.

You can still see the site where the building once rested; concrete foundations nestling right on the edge of the eroding cliff face. The view out to sea is still formidable.

I've now been living in Eastbourne for eight months. During the winter, nightly runs were restricted to a canter along the windswept promenade, but now, with the lighter evening,s the South Downs offer a fantastic and challenging backdrop to running.

Running is very selfish and cyclical in terms of moods - some days you run like a sack of potatoes in appalling conditions, and then there are runs, such as the one on Monday evening, when you are absolutely blazing.

To feel the soft grass under foot, a slight breeze to cool you, the smell of the sea and the rich scent of grass, the hypnotic sight of waves crashing over rocks hundreds of feet below while layed out in front of you are the rolling South Downs - well, you couldn't wish for better.