Though I’ve swum outdoors all my life, it was in my late twenties that my love of wild water really intensified. I began to find myself drawn to water at every opportunity and planning trips to explore new bodies of water. A three-week round trip to the Isle of Skye proved the ultimate immersive experience. We parked the van next to a Loch in pouring rain and spent a night buffeted by the wind. When we poked our noses out into the open the following morning, we were greeted by sunshine and still waters. My first tentative steps felt like a new adventure unfolding. Knowing I’m about to plunge into cold water always brings such a wonderful sense of anticipation. I felt the initial tingle around the ankles, followed by the shock around the throat. I dived underwater and an instant hit of joy reached my brain, followed by an overwhelming sense of calm. To this day, lying on my back with water over my ears is as close as I can get to my mind being still.

I was lucky enough to grow up in Yorkshire where there’s an abundance of water – more often than not, falling from the sky. My dad taught me to swim when I was a few months old and most pictures from my childhood feature me exploring some form of water. Nothing else emulates the feeling of freedom and absorption quite as magically as water. Rivers are my favourite, add in a waterfall and I’m sold. Rivers are ever-changing and, like the sea, need respect to understand their flow. I grew up spending every free sunny day by the river with a picnic and a healthy amount of unsupervised time to roam free. I don’t ever remember not feeling confident when floating in water and that feeling has only grown as I’ve aged.