The noise hangs heavy in the air,
I can touch the joy, the frenzy,
The glittering gold before it fades
Into a loving, distant dream.
The BBC replayed Super Saturday from the London 2012 Olympics this afternoon. For anyone not in the UK, it was the middle Saturday during the games when we won more gold medals than we had in over 100 years and three of those golds came in 45 minutes in the athletics stadium.
It really was an electric moment, for the whole country and not just for the athletes, and watching it brought back so many of those intense feelings that we experienced.
I think that everyone remembers that time fondly and we probably all have stories of amazing things that happened that summer. I do recall that we had a bit of a baby boom nine months later, so I am pretty sure there were lots of celebrations taking place during those weeks.
My personal memories were intensified by my own drama that was unfolding during those two weeks. I actually got the call to swim my first English Channel crossing on the first day of the games. It got cancelled at the last moment as the weather changed.
I was then lucky enough to have tickets to go and watch Michael Phelps swim and I spent the whole morning crying because I was so overcome. I then cried for the next week every time I watched an athlete win and see their dreams come true.
All through that first week I was waiting for another call for my rearranged swim. It finally came on the following Wednesday 8th August. I set off from the beach in Dover at 4am and arrived in France 12 hours and 42 minutes later.
It was a truly magical summer. I watched all of those athletes achieve their dreams and I was lucky enough to achieve mine at the same time. Those Olympics will live on in my memory forever.