I'll skate on concrete if I have to. I'm not worried about how fast the ice is. I'm worried about how fast I can go on the ice.

I still can't believe I won the Olympics. That's what I feel right now - completely alive as a human being. It's a really beautiful moment.

That's what is most satisfying, is having overcome that pain. Pain that is so intense that when you finish, it feels like you're going to die. That's what I wanted, and that's what I got.

Sport that consumed me for over two decades . . . is now gone. Now it's just me. No pressure, no expectations, no need to be fast, good, strong or to even improve. Yet I can't let go of this idea that I always need to be more than I am. And it is eating me alive.

All the physical comes from the mental.

I'm trying to let winning the world championships settle in right now before I begin training again shortly. During the skating season, we skate on average 20 kilometres a day. On top of that, we're riding a lot and lifting a lot of weights.

I was, without exaggeration, a delinquent teenager.