SIR CHRIS HOY: THIS MUCH I KNOW
I wish I could ride bikes for the rest of my life but those aches and pains are starting to hurt. Cycling is low-impact, which is why people cycle into their 70s or 80s, but track cycling means hard gym work and crashes. My wife Sarra was instrumental to my success. When I was training, she took care of everything. She would make me dinner and always understood when I had to go to bed early or couldn’t walk around the shops. I hope to repay her soon. I am quite pernickity about cleaning. Just at home, though. You wouldn’t know it if you saw my hotel room with all my kit everywhere. I’m always tidying the bills and paperwork in the kitchen. I’m a bit of a neat freak. It’s weird how you get used to being recognised. When I’m in Australia or America and somebody says: “Are you Chris Hoy?” I’ll have a picture taken, sign an autograph and carry on. It’s only afterwards you think: “That was surreal.” Travelling brings you closer to home. I was born and raised in Edinburgh and it’s when you leave, travel and look around the world that you realise how beautiful it is. Scottish people don’t take themselves too seriously. I think you have to be like that when you’re from a place where the weather is bad. Plus, we wear kilts. They’re very distinctive. My legs are my favourite body part. They’ve won me medals, so I have a lot to thank them for. Unlike my back, which gives me grief. To see my name on the Sir Chris Hoy Velodrome in Glasgow means a lot. Whether I compete there at the 2014 Commonwealth Games is purely down to my body. I don’t want to turn up for the tracksuit. I’ll only compete if I can win a medal for my country. I’m mad about cars. The obsession started when I saw Colin McRae win the 1995 World Rally Championship. I now have a Lotus and go on track days at Oulton Park. The mix of excitement and fear reminds me of my first days in the velodrome. Playing rugby as a kid improved my work ethic. I was quite small and didn’t really grow until I was 15. When you get a pasting, you learn to get tough and work harder just to keep up. It’s amazing what pressure can do. At the Olympic Village in London you could actually see the atmosphere change. At first it was quiet and people were on a mission. By the second week it was a party zone. My family just want me to be safe. My mum and my wife both say they just want me to cross the line on my bike and not fall on the ground. Only when I see videos of their reactions do I realise what they go through when I race.
Portrait ripped from Replaceface (found by Hernian). Text stolen from The Guardian.

SIR CHRIS HOY: THIS MUCH I KNOW


I wish I could ride bikes for the rest of my life but those aches and pains are starting to hurt. Cycling is low-impact, which is why people cycle into their 70s or 80s, but track cycling means hard gym work and crashes.

My wife Sarra was instrumental to my success. When I was training, she took care of everything. She would make me dinner and always understood when I had to go to bed early or couldn’t walk around the shops. I hope to repay her soon.

I am quite pernickity about cleaning. Just at home, though. You wouldn’t know it if you saw my hotel room with all my kit everywhere. I’m always tidying the bills and paperwork in the kitchen. I’m a bit of a neat freak.

It’s weird how you get used to being recognised. When I’m in Australia or America and somebody says: “Are you Chris Hoy?” I’ll have a picture taken, sign an autograph and carry on. It’s only afterwards you think: “That was surreal.”

Travelling brings you closer to home. I was born and raised in Edinburgh and it’s when you leave, travel and look around the world that you realise how beautiful it is.

Scottish people don’t take themselves too seriously. I think you have to be like that when you’re from a place where the weather is bad. Plus, we wear kilts. They’re very distinctive.

My legs are my favourite body part. They’ve won me medals, so I have a lot to thank them for. Unlike my back, which gives me grief.

To see my name on the Sir Chris Hoy Velodrome in Glasgow means a lot. Whether I compete there at the 2014 Commonwealth Games is purely down to my body. I don’t want to turn up for the tracksuit. I’ll only compete if I can win a medal for my country.

I’m mad about cars. The obsession started when I saw Colin McRae win the 1995 World Rally Championship. I now have a Lotus and go on track days at Oulton Park. The mix of excitement and fear reminds me of my first days in the velodrome.

Playing rugby as a kid improved my work ethic. I was quite small and didn’t really grow until I was 15. When you get a pasting, you learn to get tough and work harder just to keep up.

It’s amazing what pressure can do. At the Olympic Village in London you could actually see the atmosphere change. At first it was quiet and people were on a mission. By the second week it was a party zone.

My family just want me to be safe. My mum and my wife both say they just want me to cross the line on my bike and not fall on the ground. Only when I see videos of their reactions do I realise what they go through when I race.


Portrait ripped from Replaceface (found by Hernian). Text stolen from The Guardian.