So Euros went really well! I came home with three gold medals (from the team pursuit, individual pursuit and elimination race) and so many pats on the back I began to suspect a prank note on my jacket.

I even got a message of congratulations from my brother. It was all a bit mental and I don't know how to talk about it without sounding really conceited so let's just get it out my system right now, then we can go ahead with the rest of the article in peace.

Yay for GB winning stuff!

The success of the women's endurance team meant more media attention than I'm used to, however. With that attention came a category of interview questions I'm not versed in answering: the sports politics questions. In a normal interview I'll be asked about my performance (“Thank you, I'm very pleased to have made my opponents cry by going so fast” / “Oh no it didn't go very well – there was someone in the race so fast I cried trying to keep up.”) and my hobbies (“I only dance in my bedroom and sing in the shower, so I can't know for sure, but I think I'm maybe brilliant.”) and just generally stuff about ME.

'Me' would be my mastermind speciality category. I can talk about 'me' for an entire dinner table discussion and trick you into thinking we're having a topical debate. Sometimes I wake in the night, covered in sweat screaming “mmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”. So yeah, I find those interviews okay to deal with.

But now I'm being asked my opinion on other areas of the sport. What do I think about the sprinters prospects for Rio? What do I think about Lizzie Armitstead's current infallible form? What do I think about that video of a dog riding a bike? Sorry, no, that last one is from a different list of questions I wish I was asked (answer: brilliant video, this world is a wonderful place). Basically it all got serious. And in the panic, I began speaking in purely inspirational quotes to hide my lack of preparation.

So from now on the only difference between reading one of my interviews and reading a series of fortune cookies is that you don't need to snap me as hard for faux wisdom to come out. Honestly, just a pinch on the arm and I'll tell you that the only person you should aim to be better than is the person you were yesterday.

I don't even believe that! I want to be better than everyone. But alas this is what happens under pressure (without pressure there are no diamonds though... Oh god I can't stop) in tricky interviews; I try to say lots of very general and unremarkable things because that's the way to have a nice quiet life. When it doubt rely on quotes rather than opinions: that's my motto. You may quote me.

The next occasion for my legs to talk, and save my clumsy mouth, is the first world cup in Colombia. We'll be riding on the same track that in 2014 I pulled on my first, and so far only, rainbow jersey after we beat the Canadians in the world championship team pursuit final. So it's a track with mainly fond memories. But also a track with some quirks.

It's 1000m above sea level so the air is slightly slippy without making it hard to breathe - good. It's a standard wooden 250m track so standard skills required - good. It's warm and slightly humid which is apparently just what your lungs like - good, I guess. The ceiling doesn't cover the entire track and it rains all the time which can put a stop to racing - ungood. Ignoring that last one though, lots of good.

The team pursuit is being held on the first day. In fact, all three rides will be not just in one day but in one afternoon. We should (ideally) qualify around 1pm, have the first round at 8pm and final at 10pm: a pretty big evening.

I'm then hoping I'll be riding the scratch race the next day. There's no points race or devil so the scratch is the only non-omnium bunch race at this world cup. I'll admit it's not usually my finest event, especially when it comes down to a bunch sprint, but I'm excited about making it an exciting race. That's my other motto: when in doubt, make it hard.