Medal success down to MacLean's inspiration

WOULD you believe that life has been quiet since I got back from Athens? It has felt like the calm after the storm; after all the excitement and the tension of Athens, it was nice this week to return to my flat in Manchester and take it easy.

It didn’t last long. I have at least one commitment in the diary - I’ve had to get a diary! - each day until the end of September, starting yesterday, when I drove up to Edinburgh to make a half-time appearance at Tynecastle during the Festival Cup match between Hearts and Hibs.

At the risk of alienating half of my home city, I must admit to being a Hearts fan; although I’d balance that by pointing out that my dad is a Hibs supporter. But I knew yesterday that my appearance at Tynecastle couldn’t possibly go as badly as when I performed a similar duty at Meadowbank, during an Edinburgh Rugby game. That evening I shouted what I thought was a rousing "Come on the Reivers!" into the mic - not realising, having been away from Edinburgh, that they were no longer called the Edinburgh Reivers. I recall some good-natured booing ringing in my ears as I beat a hasty retreat.

Over the next few days I will finally watch the video from Athens, and read the newspapers that I’m sure my parents have kept for me. I’m looking forward to watching the video, because I think it’ll help me remember the experience, but I don’t know how I’ll react. When I crossed the line and looked up at the scoreboard, I couldn’t celebrate because I was in tears just about straight away.

Two days later, at 9am, I found myself sitting in a BBC studio, being interviewed by Hazel Irvine. They played the video, but I can’t say I remember anything about it. Lots of people have since told me that I looked quite tired during that interview. I suppose I was. But it was the stinking hangover that really did for me.

Contrary to what some people think, you don’t win an Olympic gold medal and have sponsorship opportunities landing in your lap. People do have that impression I think, but you have to be pro-active.

Nothing’s been signed yet but there are a few opportunities, which I really have to seize because opportunities like this don’t come along very often. I will retain my long-standing sponsor the Miller Group, who placed so much faith in me before the Olympics.

It was an extraordinary Olympics, particularly for the cyclists, and people are now asking a question you don’t hear very often: how come British cycling is so strong? Which is remarkable, especially when I think back to my first world championships in 1996.

Then it was a one man show - Chris Boardman. We had exceptional individuals like Boardman and Graeme Obree, but they made it despite the system. In fact there was no system, and only a shoestring budget.

A lot of the success is down to lottery funding. It has allowed British Cycling to establish what is, in effect, a professional team. And that allows athletes to reach their potential. It’s nothing remarkable; it’s just that every detail is looked at and worked on. It’s professionalism - that’s the biggest change in British cycling, although I think we’re also in the midst of a very special era, with a group of riders all coming to their peak at the same time. I don’t know if it’ll be repeated.

Peter Keen, Boardman’s coach, was the man with the original plan, starting in 1997. In setting up the World Class Performance Plan, he looked at what they were doing in Australia and France and copied elements of their programmes which he thought were most effective. He has since passed the baton on to Dave Brailsford, the current performance director, who has continued the good work; sensibly managing the programme and investing the money wisely, on everything from the best sports science input to the bikes, which were made by Advanced Composite Group in Nottingham to our own specification. I don’t think anyone else in Athens had bikes as good as ours.

Other than Keen and Brailsford, so many people have helped me in my career, and I really don’t think I’d have won in Athens without all those who’ve had input. But top of the list has to be Craig MacLean. He was one of the first to congratulate me in Athens and that meant a lot to me.

Half an hour before my ride the two of us were sitting in the track centre and we had one of those surreal moments. Craig turned to me and said: "Twelve years ago we were out at Turnhouse, shivering in the snow in between sprint efforts. Who’d have thought we’d be here?"

But the truth is that I don’t know if I would have been there if it hadn’t been for Craig. Jason Queally’s gold in Sydney inspired me, but Craig was the biggest influence, especially early in my career. He was like a big brother to me, as well as being my coach, my training partner and, as the best sprinter in Britain, a real inspiration.

He had unusual ideas, mad ideas; like filling his bike with lead shot. I copied him and he dragged me out training. He helped me a lot more than I was able to help him at the time.

Twelve years on, it was nice to share and celebrate the moment with Craig. But the moment was tinged with disappointment. If Craig had turned up and done what he’s capable of, it would have been great. But I knew he wasn’t at his best - if he had been, he’d have been on the podium with me.

That’s sport, I guess. You’re at the mercy of illness, or injury. I was fortunate, while Craig was very unfortunate with his health this year. But that shouldn’t detract from what he has achieved in his career, or from the fact that he’s been an inspiration to so many riders, including me.