JUST 11 days ago Chris Hoy became the most successful Olympic cyclist of all time - but now he was up against me, writes Fay Schlesinger.

Each of the quadruple gold medalist's 27 inch thighs is the same size as my waist.

Chris is the fastest cyclist in the world. I used to amble to university on a second-hand bike, pushing it up any hills.

But, in front of thousands of his fans, I raced against the time he had just set in a 500m static cycling race.

He looked over with the veins standing out on his forehead. "Good luck," he said, flexing his muscles with a glint in his eye.

I had watched his technique carefully - head down, legs in, and focus. But when I set off, it all fell apart. I bounced up and down on the bicycle seat, my body swaying from side to side with each push on the pedals.

After 200m of frantic adrenaline-fuelled pedalling, the ache started creeping into my legs. Involuntary yelps came out of my mouth.

My hair fell into eyes and I brushed it away - a lapse in focus that Chris would later chastise.

A laughing Chris managed the 500m challenge in 19.4 seconds. I took 31 seconds and could barely talk or walk afterwards. As Chris shook my hand, he said: "Good effort." But I think the Olympic cycling team can manage without me.