When you win sprints, you're a great sprinter, but when you win a great one-day race, you've proved you're a great rider.
In a sprint you make 100 decisions a second. What if X goes now and Y goes then? Should I take this gap or that one? You have to be sharp. Over time it becomes instinct.
I'm fortunate in one way and I can take pride from the fact that I've consistently performed for 10 years, which is something that not many people can do. I've consistently stayed near the top for 10 years which is maybe something that is overlooked and taken for granted.
Every rider trains their muscles but few train their brain.
Lance Armstrong won seven Tours, that's 147 days of racing, and he never had a puncture or a mechanical. You can really minimise your chances of a mistake if you do everything right.
If you're winning bike races ahead of guys who're older than you then they're going to get upset. When some young guy appears from nowhere, some people who are slower assume they ride dangerously.
There's no emotion. I just see the gap and, instinctively, go for it.
I used to walk down a street and nobody would notice me. Now, I get stopped all the time; people saying, 'well done'. It makes me really, really proud to have done my bit to help make cycling a little bit more popular.
It's incredible the muscle damage you do in a sprint. You don't see it after the line, because we're smiling. But if you see the tent that we're in straight afterwards, you just collapse.
I'm 100% a sprinter... an old school one, not one of these new guys that can climb and sprint.
At the end of the day I want to be the first rider across that finish line and I'll just find the quickest and easiest way to do it.
If somebody had told me as a kid that I would win 30 stages of the Tour de France I probably wouldn't have imagined it. I probably imagined I could do it - I don't lack confidence - but at the end of the day one Tour de France stage win can make a rider's career.
I constantly do puzzle books. Smash through them. My iPad's full of them. Logic puzzles. Bridges. Slitherlink.
If I do a circuit, then after three laps I could tell you where all the potholes were.
I think any professional athlete who says they stick to a strict diet and weigh their food out every time is either lying or they're sick.
The descents are quite fun - everybody has a sort of competition and tries to go for it and then you compare top speeds when you get to the bottom.
The other sprinters are big and powerful but I have different strengths. The first thing is my leg speed. Most guys sprint at 120 revolutions per minute but I sprint at 130-140: think of it like a smaller engine revving faster. My body is shorter too, so I can lean over the handlebars for a more aerodynamic profile: again, think a smaller engine but in an F1 car.
The stronger you are as a unit, the more you can control a race. The strongest cyclist in the world isn't as strong as two guys, let alone nine.
Sometimes it can be more tiring with the kids than on the bike but I'm absolutely loving it.
I don't like being in London too long, because everybody's just looking straight forward, at nobody else. That freaks me out a little bit.
