This is Swimming by Sarah Arvio.

Our relation to you is the same as that between abstraction and metaphor, between the idea

of a clear lake and the sighting of the lake to describe the clear idea, one said with

a laugh.

Oh, I said then, what a fine idea, and now what lake will embody its fact, and this,

aren't we tired of comparisons to the natural world, then this, and what world isn't natural,

only the world of the mind is unnatural, and this, it defies nature and defines nature

and won't be defined, the life of the mind, but its death one pund, perish the thought in

the deep, all these questions sink away, and only the swimming matters, water sliding

around the head and heart and hip, arms crusting and curving, with, not against, carried along

on the roll and the rush, a good swimmer knows water won't resist, swift or even slow,

but yes effortless.

Are these words merely pretty, no my dear, water is the principle of pleasure and of pain,

the receiver of the touch, for the cells and tissues of water bound, with a splash of

a smile one turned to me, or bodies to be chews, a glacial lake.

I'm Rebecca Chengajuibushal, and I was the first black woman to swim for Great Britain.

I'm a former British champion, and world number one, but I quit the sport just before

the 2012 Olympic Games at just 17.

I'll be navigating you through the waters of my swimming world, as I remember it, and

as it exists now.

When hosting the series, I'll also tell you more about my story, whilst we explore a

question I've often been asked, why do we swim?

...