If I was racing in 2015, no, I wouldn’t do it again because I don’t think you have to. If you take me back to 1995, when doping was completely pervasive, I would probably do it again.
Chasing records doesn’t keep me on my bike. Happiness does.
The ban is completely out of my hands. And I think in most people’s minds, even if it’s unrealistic to them, it’s one that I left myself with no choice on.
Nobody is going to feel sorry for me if I’ve lost a dollar or $100m.
A boo is a lot louder than a cheer.
It’s tougher for me. But I don’t think that’s imperative to me starting a new movement, or revive an old movement, to help people.
One of the redeeming things about being an athlete is redefining what is humanly possible.
Giving up was never an option.
Hard work, sacrifice and focus will never show up in tests.
I think I bit off more than I could chew, I thought the marathon would be easier. For the level of condition that I have now, that was without a doubt the hardest physical thing I have ever done.
For whatever reason, maybe it’s because of my story, but people associate Livestrong with exercise and physical fitness, health and lifestyle choices like that.
Forever is a big word. I’m not going anywhere.
Pain is temporary. Eventually it will subside. If I quit, however, the surrender stays with me.
I exercise everyday. I swim, I bike, I run and I go to the gym.
I become a happier man each time I suffer.
Motivation can’t take you very far if you don’t have the legs.
Through my illness I learned rejection. I was written off. That was the moment I thought, Okay, game on. No prisoners. Everybody’s going down.
There comes a point in every man’s life when he has to say: ‘Enough is enough.’
Everybody wants to know what I’m on. What am I on? I’m on my bike busting my ass six hours a day. What are you on?
Anyone who imagines they can work alone winds up surrounded by nothing but rivals, without companions. The fact is, no one ascends alone.