Heavily pregnant Benita shows that running is no barrier

Coming to a town near you soon - the Eastbourne version of Baywatch!

IT'S six years now since I embarked on running around the British Isles in 80 races, and as I was writing the book the one familiar chord which constantly struck me was how the running community instantly brings strangers together.

Wherever I travelled about the nation, from Cape Wrath in Scotland to Penzance in Cornwall, through Wales, and across the Irish Sea to Northern Ireland and the Republic, your sport and passion was your passport. I was the stranger to their running communities, yet even in the heat of competition, I was welcomed with open arms.

No matter how arduous the challenge, the camaraderie and that distinct common bond remained prevalent.

Now, even when you are out for an early morning canter, that knowing nod or brief thumbs up to a passing runner is sweet recognition of a sport which unites. In fact, I get majorly hacked off by ignorant sweaty joggers, perspiring through their armpits, music blazing through stringy headphones, eyes hidden behind D-list celebrity Ray-Bans and with the fashion sense of an Eskimo, who are totally dismissive.

Anyway, I digress, since as the persistent nomad, with more homes in the last decade than Zsa Zsa Gabor has had husbands (nine for her and 12 for me!) running has been the constant thread in my journey. Though Stubbington Green Runners in Hampshire has always been my spiritual home, I've joined running clubs wherever I have moved to and always been welcomed. I think my life has been richer for that experience.

In Eastbourne, I've hooked up with a relatively new club, Meads Runners, spawned from a series of fitness groups run by former Royal Navy man, Mike Ovens. The Wednesday evening sessions along the seafront are some of the hardest I've endured, set against a spectacular backdrop of the English Channel on one side, and the rolling hills of the South Downs on the other flank.

It really is beauty and the beast, with Mike a tremendous motivator of a group where the abilities are wide, but the goals exactly the same.

This week, Mike organised a 5km time trial from the Holywell Café close to Beachy Head, along the promenade past the Bandstand to the Fusciardi's ice cream parlour and back.

It was a bit of a crowd dodge on a humid, sticky evening. There was a brass band concert taking place in the Bandstand, the seafront cafés were doing brisk business, and with Eastbourne bursting with foreign exchange students - it's the town's second biggest earner - the promenade was bustling.

Crazy man in red with Nick and James

As I sauntered past three old ladies near the Wish Tower, one of them chirped: "How many of you are there, you're putting me to shame?!"

I hate 5km races. They're short, sharp and painful and by the end of the run I was sweating like a weightwatcher in a cream cake shop. But it was a fun, low-key event where I managed to blag a medal - and suffer this awful and haunting photo. What sort of mentally-disturbed face was I pulling?!!

Anyway, the point of this ramble was to mention one of the runners, Benita.

She is an incredible lady who, when she is fit, gives me a run for my money but who throughout this Spring and Summer has turned up to the Wednesday evening sessions regularly, despite being pregnant.

Benita and Emily sprint for the line

Benita is due to give birth in just seven weeks' time, but fair play to her because, despite the humidity and her pregnancy, she completed the 5km in a bump-defying 35 minutes - that is around 11 minute mile pace which is very respectable.

It truly was an awe-inspiring run, as Benita's tenacity and doggedness shone through deserving the utmost respect. As a group, we clapped her in warmly to the finish as Benita carried a broad but tired smile across her face.

As a member of the weaker sex, I certainly couldn't carry the rough equivalent of four bags of sugar round my waist and run 35 minutes on a humid Wednesday evening with barely a lick of breeze coursing off the Channel at low tide.

Heaven-knows what those folk enjoying a leisurely early evening stroll along Eastbourne's seafront made of this heavily pregnant lady setting a fair pace along the prom.

Yet, that is what running is all about. It's not about who comes first, or even who comes last, but it is about the community and the fellowship of running.

We all have our own distinct goals which we set out to achieve. And you know what? You can't beat it!



Benita nears the Fusciardi's ice cream shop at half way wondering whether they've got banana split
on special offer this week, with minder Emily ensuring that she stays off the chocolate sauce!!!