Inspired by the courageous achievements of the Paralympians

JUST back from a 6am run along the seafront - it really was cold and dark when I set out this morning.

Thoughts turned to the Paralympics. Last night I marvelled at the Cuban runner, Yunidis Castillo, who has just one arm, winning the T46 100m in an eye-watering 12.01sec. Just imagine running with one arm by your side - no balance at all, just power through your legs. And in close to 12 seconds - crikey O'Reilly, that is swift!

And then there was Bethany Woodward taking silver in the T37 200m. Bethany is only 19 and was born in Eastbourne, so in true media fashion we're claiming her as one of ours even though she grew up in the New Forest, lives in Dorset and has probably never visited East Sussex since.

Unlike some of the puffed-up Premiership footballers there is a genuine humbleness about the Paralympians and their achievements. In post-race interviews there is true joy in their achievement as well as respect for their fellow competitors. You don't get a load of banal cliches from these new heroes, just a thoughtful insight into their world.

For Bethany, she suffers from cerebral palsy, an impairment to the brain which affects movement, posture and co-ordination. The teenager couldn't stop smiling after her silver medal, and hadn't even realised she had finished second until she looked up at the scoreboard after crossing the line.

"Paralympic sport has never ever seen anything like this before and, if the public falls in love with it just as much as we have fallen in love with it, then that will be great to have all that support," she said, before giving us an idea of what it must be like to run with such a disability.

"It's like a brick wall you have to break through to get it done," she said. "The CP [cerebral palsy] side is lazy and, it's a constant battle to push through that and say actually, 'No you are going to do something great here.' I was going 'Come on! Push it' and my body listened."

As dawn was lifting on my steady run along the promenade, I thought about the Paralympians and their courage - and also about Bethany's words of trying to break through a brick wall. How often have I felt like that on my punishing runs and wanted to throw in the towel? At least I have full use of my arms, legs and a brain to break through that brick wall - pain is temporary, quitting is forever.

I had to push my able but aged body out of bed and out of the door this morning to run. Yet that's nothing compared to the ordeal these Paralympians put their bodies through.

Going back to Yunidis Castillo and running with just one arm. When I was being taught to run I was coached how to use your arms properly - they were there for two reasons, firstly they are stabilisers to balance the body (try running with both hands by the side of your body for a while and you're like a weeble), and then they are there for power to synchronise with your legs - either for sprinting or pushing up a hill.

There are times you drop your arms to relax the body and preserve energy, and other times they come to the fore in a steady motion to help you put on the after-burners.

Take those assets away and it's a nightmare to run. I've raced several times while pushing my son in a racing wheelchair with my arms at 90 degress so the only power comes through your legs. Running 10 miles in a rain-sodden Great South Run dressed as Scooby Doo while pushing Ross was no cake-walk, I can tell you! I was balanced with the pushchair, but it was really hard work and tough to shut down one part of your body, my arms, especially when running into a headwind.

It is wonderful that these Paralympics can bask in the spotlight for their achievements and take the glory that is rightfully theirs. Yet once the crowds have returned home, after the floodlights have been turned off at the Olympic Stadium, these same people will have to contend with a life made even more difficult by their disability.

Will we remember Yunidis or Bethany in six months' time? Will their lives be changed by their Paralympic achievement? It's unlikely. As they get older and sport is no long the bedrock of their lives, so the day-to-day challenges of their disabilities become even greater.

The other abiding memory from last night's action on the athletics track was the sight of the Brazilian sprinters making it one-two-three in the women's T11 100m for visually-impaired runners.

The winner was a lovely lady called Terezinha Guilhermina, with tattoos and a sequin-encrusted eye-mask. She was guided to the finish by Guilherme Soares de Santana, joined together by a velcro strap from their wrists.

The two had come a cropper earlier in the 400m final when Guilherme had struggled to keep up with Terezinha and fell over in the finishing straight. At the finish of the 100m final, their eyes wet with the joy of victory, they wrapped each other in their arms and Terezinha jokingly put the sight mask over the eyes of her guide.

I trained with a blind runner for a short while a few years ago, running as a guide. We were also attached by a strap attached around the wrist and would run around Southampton Common twice a week. The guy had gone blind in his teens through a medical condition, which must have been tough.

It was an interesting experience to run with someone who is blind. For me, it was an insight into the world of running blind, and the courage it must take to put your faith in the arms of another.

His sensory perception was awesome, and on runs if he could smell the perfume of a lady in the distance he would ask me to describe her in detail. I was giving a running commentary of the people and sights around on our runs, as well as describing the obstacles which lay ahead.

The irony is that this guy had taken up running a few years a earlier following the break-up of his marriage. His wife had suddenly run off with his best friend and with firm tongue-in-cheek, my blind mate said: "You know what, I didn't even see it coming!"

Back to the Brazilian blind runners and their guides; here it was fantastic to see the joy in their faces, and embrace their sense of achievement.

Paralympics may not be everyone's cup of tea, but in a world where we are too easily critical of others, you couldn't fail to smile as the six Brazilians, their athletes and guides in their moment of celebration.

They took to the podium for the medal ceremony in style, with Terezinha and Guilherme performing an impromptu salsa to accept their gold medals.

All six Brazilians stood on the podium, belting out their national anthem with pride, waving their bouquets afterwards and proudly showing off their medals. It was flamboyant, it was colourful and it made you feel good about life, about these brave Paralympians who every day challenge themselves and their bodies.

For everyone, able-bodied or disabled, surely that should be inspirational to us all. That in life there can be no barriers if we wish to fulfil our dreams.