I have been lucky enough to see many memorable moments of sport that have made history; some because of the icons that were involved, some because of records being broken and some because of the cultural significance.
But, for me, few can match Cathy Freeman at the Sydney Olympics in 2000.
It was the first Games of the new millennium; it was the centenary anniversary of women competing at the Olympics; and it was a country rejoicing in its favourite national pastime.
Australia has always embraced sport and Sydney became the focus for a few spectacular weeks.
I was lucky enough to be in the stadium twice to watch Cathy. The first time was for the opening ceremony when the athletes from all the countries were gathered together and we would finally witness who would be the chosen one to carry the Olympic torch on its final journey to the Olympic cauldron.
It should have been no surprise that Cathy accepted the torch for the climactic leg of the journey, but as she was due to compete the following week, many believed she would be elsewhere relaxing and preparing.
But there she was in the middle of the biggest Olympic stadium ever created and she strode up the steps to where the cauldron awaited.
She was already a hero of many in sport, but when she reached the top and – literally – walked on water, the stadium erupted.
Cathy touched the flame to the edge of the pool of water and fire ignited around her: a sole figure, standing in front of a giant waterfall, surrounded by fire. It was breathtaking.
Not many images would be able to compete with that, but perhaps the moment 10 days later did. I was back in the stadium on the night of Cathy’s 400m final.
It was the day after my own final (in rowing, where I won a silver) and a sold-out crowd of more than 110,000 people fell to a hush as Cathy stepped out into the stadium to start her warm-up. I remember her green, gold and white bodysuit with her hood pulled up as she approached the start line.
There was an eerie silence as she settled into her starting blocks and it seemed that every single person in the crowd was holding their breath.
The gun went, the tension was released, and more than 110,000 were united in a collective roar as she sprinted around the track.
Flashbulbs followed her progress as we tried to judge where she was in the staggered race. By the final straight, Cathy was pulling clear of the field and I think every nation was willing her on. The moment she crossed the line, everybody cheered and, if anything, the noise grew ever more deafening.
We hugged anyone in the stands, next to us, behind us, in front of us. It was a moment of sheer joy. And, as Cathy slowly stood up and finally a great grin broke out on her face, we watched as she gathered the Aboriginal and Australian flags and ran her victory lap with both of them, a symbol of unification.
Sydney was my first Olympics and, as a youngster witnessing a moment of history, it was easy to take so much from this brilliant athlete.
All of us saw how an athlete could be composed and focused under immense pressure and with the expectation of a home nation watching. How to be gracious in victory and appreciative of the moment. How to carry the hopes of the public and deliver in style. How to truly enjoy and appreciate those rare moments that sport gives you.
All of us in the stadium that night learned something from Cathy Freeman and remembering that magical summer 20 years on still gives me goosebumps and makes me smile.
Sport can have a deeper and lasting impact on people, which is far greater than simply watching a race.
On that night, we all felt part of something bigger, something better, something lasting, something deeply touching and truly inspirational.
Dame Katherine Grainger won Olympic gold at the London Olympics in 2012 and medals at the Games in Sydney (2000), Athens (2004), Beijing (2008) and Rio (2016).
She is the current chairwoman of UK Sport.
