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Lizzie Armistead
‘I’m used to riding in harsh conditions’ … Lizzie Armitstead grew up in Yorkshire so heavy rain during the women's road race didn’t faze her. Photograph: Felix Clay for the Guardian
‘I’m used to riding in harsh conditions’ … Lizzie Armitstead grew up in Yorkshire so heavy rain during the women's road race didn’t faze her. Photograph: Felix Clay for the Guardian

Saturday interview: Lizzie Armitstead, Olympic cycling silver medallist

This article is more than 11 years old
Lizzie Armitstead broke away from the pack in the women's road race with 45km to go – a gutsy move that won her Team GB's first medal. Suddenly she is a sporting celebrity, and finds herself wondering if she could have won gold

In lots of ways, those 140km in torrential rain, chasing the best cyclist of her generation – and only narrowly finishing behind her – is the easy bit. Now Lizzie Armitstead, who won Britain's first medal on Sunday in the women's road race, has to deal with everything that comes next. Today that includes an early start, with television and radio appearances, and then a steady stream of interviews. I don't envy her, but such is the life of a newly crowned sports superstar.

Later she'll take to Twitter to complain about journalists with "an agenda". Is that me? I don't know. She seems tired – this is the day after she competed in the time trial – and a PR sits next to her. The sponsor's logos are everywhere. I haven't got long, I'm warned.

But back to that thrilling race, where Armitstead's name – already famous in cycling circles – was brought to the rest of the country. "I feel like I won silver and I didn't lose gold," she says.

"The pictures I've seen of me crossing the line make me look like I'm smiling but I think it's a grimace."

A silver Olympic medal is an astonishing achievement for any athlete, let alone one who started in her sport barely seven years ago, competing as a senior for an even shorter period, but I ask if she went in thinking the gold medal was a possibility. "No, I didn't, and looking back, maybe that's something … " She lifts up her sunglasses briefly. "From this point on, I'm excited for the rest of my career, because I feel capable and I can really believe in myself now. I should have done that before."

Armitstead couldn't have ridden better – she made the gutsy decision to commit to the break with 45km to go, which paid off, and kept the pace before an explosive sprint finish – but says she wishes she had ridden the last 200 metres differently. "I wish I had tried to take on the sprint before [the Netherlands' Marianne] Vos did. Before that, I was so focused, and in the last turn on to the Mall, I thought: 'Oh my God, this is the Olympic Games.' That thought came into my mind before it should have done, really. From that moment, I was thinking, rather going on instinct, which is how I race best."

She smiles. "I need to learn to be happy and enjoy the achievement rather than already thinking about what I could have done better. I am proud, but I'm annoyed with myself for not believing in myself enough."

It wasn't a short race – 140km over more than three and a half hours – and I ask what goes through her mind. "It's a long way, and normally you have plenty of time to think and talk to your teammates," she says, "but it felt like 20km. It was just over. It's like being in a tunnel. I can't describe the feeling. I just zoned out completely."

If it were me, I'd be thinking about what to have for dinner. She smiles. "That's the kind of thing I was thinking about during the time-trial," she says – she finished 10th on Wednesday. "My mind definitely wandered, but in the road race, it was the feeling of being so focused and zoned in on what I was doing, and that's when you produce your best performance. It was a calm place in my mind. I knew what I was doing."

The pouring rain, she says, was an advantage – this is a girl who grew up cycling in Yorkshire. "I'm suited to harsh conditions, I don't like racing in the heat. As soon as we were in the breakaway and it started pouring down, it meant the chasing group behind us had to go round each corner slower than we did, and our advantage crept up. I just felt so sorry for the crowd. It was really nice that they were all still there." It still doesn't feel real. "I can't get my head round it," she says quietly. "Maybe I need to watch it on TV and realise it's me."

For all the giddiness, the day brings sad news. On Wednesday evening, the day before our interview, Daniel Harris, a cycling commuter, was killed outside the Olympic park – the 62nd cyclist killed on Britain's roads this year. That night, Bradley Wiggins, who had just won a gold medal at the time-trial, suggested laws to make helmets compulsory could be brought in. "I agree with Bradley, that laws need to be put in place [to] protect cyclists more," Armitstead says. "It's a two-way street. Cyclists need to obey the Highway Code, not run red lights and not ride with iPods on, and motorists need to be more respectful and look out for cyclists. It's just an education thing." Armitstead has been knocked off her bike three times on roads. "Once by a trailer and twice in Manchester just riding to the track," she says. "Nothing too serious, because I'm aware of what I'm doing, but I've had people I know who died after being hit by cars. It's not something you really dwell on."

More cycle lanes would help, she says. "I think the most important thing is you're not on a cycle lane that suddenly disappears." She lives in Belgium, and rides for a Dutch team. How do the roads compare to the UK? "It's incredible. You're always on a cycle lane that generally has a grass verge between you and the road. It's lovely riding there."

These days, we often expect our sports stars to have perfectly formed viewpoints. On Monday, Armitstead, 23, found she had become a (reluctant, it turns out) campaigner for equality in sport. "It can get overwhelming and frustrating, the sexism I've experienced in my career," she told a news conference. "It's a big issue in women's sport. It's the obvious things: the salary, media coverage, the general things you have to cope with. If you focus on it too much, you get very disheartened."

Hurrah! I think. I love what she said and tell her so. She doesn't look as if she agrees. "The issue is too big for me to tackle. It's difficult," she says.

"I'm just really happy I'm at the Games. It is an equal opportunity and that has to be the legacy now. Here, there is equal sponsorship, equal media exposure. I don't know what I can do politically to change it. The thing I can do is ride as fast as I can and hopefully inspire people to take up sport." What would she like to see happen? "More investment would be ideal, and investment comes from exposure. I've raised a point but I don't know how to solve the issues. I've just won a silver medal and want to enjoy it rather than be labelled as this person who is going to tackle this massive issue. I don't want to shake the responsibility, but at this time I can't handle that kind of … " She trails off.

She is happier when talking about cycling. Armitstead, who grew up in Otley, West Yorkshire, the youngest of three, was spotted at her school aged 15 by a British Cycling talent programme – proof that investment produces results.

Did she love it immediately? She shakes her head. "When I first started I thought it was a weird old man's sport," she says with a laugh. "I hated the shorts I had to wear. But then I went to watch the Track Cycling World Cup in Manchester, and the crowds and excitement was what drew me, and I thought, 'I could be good at this.' The more I trained and the better results I got, the more I enjoyed it." When she won her first race, "I was so surprised. I couldn't even take my hands off the handlebars because I was scared of crashing."

It can be dangerous. Does she ever lose her nerve? "It is dangerous, but that's what thrills me – the high speeds you reach and risks you take. As soon as I'm on the bike and get the adrenaline, I don't think about the danger. I do have bad crashes, but the idea is to bounce back as quickly as possible."

She says starting late meant she doesn't feel she missed out on a childhood. "My friends are all really understanding. Sometimes if you're going out every weekend, it gets a bit boring, but if you go out twice a year, they're always good nights." There are other sacrifices that are harder, she says. "This year I didn't get to go to my niece's christening, and I wasn't there for my friend when he was in hospital. That's when you start questioning yourself: 'Why are you cycling? It's not important.' But having spoken to people at the time, they said: 'You're going to the Olympics and you're going to inspire people and make them happy.' My niece now has an auntie who is an Olympic medallist and my friend is healthy."

She doesn't have many days off. Any time is spent catching up with friends, or with her boyfriend, Adam Blythe, also a cyclist. Is it difficult to maintain a relationship with this sort of life? "It is," she says. "Really hard. Sometimes it means I come back and he's got to fly off for a race, but having someone who totally understands what I do, it's something I couldn't find anywhere else. He was here, which meant the world to me because I was thinking he might have to race." Blythe was soon off to France, where he won the first stage of the Paris-Corrèze race on Wednesday. "Success breeds success," she says with a beam.

Armitstead's road to the Olympics was strewn with successes. She picked up gold medals at the World Cup and the World Championships, while her road racing was also looking unstoppable, winning two of the hardest road races, the Tour de l'Aude and Tour de l'Ardèche in 2010, and picking up a silver medal in the Commonwealth games.

But off the bike there were wobbles. After the World Championships in Copenhagen in September last year, Armitstead criticised her teammate Nicole Cooke, the defending Olympic champion, saying she "rode for herself". Armitstead got caught in a crash, and instead of helping, Cooke went for the finish line, coming fourth. She later responded: "I rode for the team and according to the instructions given to me." I can sense Armitstead bristle when I bring it up, but the team worked flawlessly on Sunday – afterwards a delighted Cooke praised her younger teammate. How did they work it out? "That was inexperience from me, really, talking to one journalist and it blows up out of proportion. That's something I've learned from," she says. "We talked as a team and got through it together."

Armitstead is already thinking about Rio 2016. "It's annoying but the athlete in me won't let me relax," she says. "We've got the world championships at the end of September, and I'm in the form of my life. It would be nice if I could hold on to it." How long will she carry on cycling? "At least until 2016, and then see what happens." She says she would like a family, and is thinking about the breaks between competitions when she could plan a child: "Maybe at 28 or 32."

There are still times, she admits, when she gets tired of cycling. "Times when I want to be at home with my family and I have to miss birthdays and all that stuff, I think, 'What am I doing this for? I'm not contributing to anything, I'm just doing it for myself.' But then when you come to an event like the Olympics, you realise it isn't just about you, it's about national pride."

I ask her how she feels when she's out there, just her and her bike. "My mum said something the other day," she says. "Sometimes she watches me leaving for training. I can see her out the window, and I said, 'what are you doing Mum?' She said, 'I just like watching you on the bike because it's like you're at home on it.' She's right. I just feel like I'm at one with the bike, that I'm doing my sport."

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