Diving

I do laps at the Olympic pool, swim in the centre lane, the one for medium swimmers. The fast swimmers -mostly men in their lunch hour - have the outside lane. They belt up the pool, tumble-turn and hurtle the length back, arm over arm over arm, churning the water, overtaking one another without pausing. In the lane to my right, the slow lane, elderly women in rubber caps, and pregnant women with ponytails, breast-stroke slowly, glide as graceful and gracious as swans on a river.