I was awarded 'Most Aggressive Rider of the Day', generally given to the most spectacular loser of the day.

My epiphany came in that police cell: I realized I was about to lose everything and it didn't bother me, not in the slightest. I'd come to hate cycling because I blamed it for the lie I was living.

To be brutally honest, it's simple economics. If they want to come into cycling, sponsors need to know the team they are funding is clean, otherwise the risk is just too great.

It seemed romantic but also tragic - people would be winning but then lose it all, or crash but fight on, break bones but get back on their bikes and try to finish. Just getting to the end was seen as an achievement in itself.

Cycling is such a stupid sport. Next time you are in a car travelling at 40mph think about jumping out - naked. That's what it's like when we crash.

I've been proud to be national champion.

I'll go [racing] until my body won't let me any more. Someone said to me: "The day you stop, you won't be able to get back on the same way as when you did as a pro." I want to delay that kiss goodbye as long as possible.