So there I was, up in Manchester, pretty fearful as I cycled furiously up and down the steep, wooden banking of the velodrome in a forlorn chase of Jason Queally, who had just returned from the 2000 Sydney Olympics as the new one kilo champion.
Although Chris Boardman had opened British cyclists' eyes to the possibilities of Olympic success it was Queally's feat that laid the first foundation of the resulting decade of unprecedented supremacy, hence me making a fool of myself on a bike going too fast with no brakes for an Esquire magazine feature.
There were a couple of other cyclists present that day, one a 24-year-old Scot who had returned from the Games with a silver medal which, in the light of so much golden success in Sydney, had passed by relatively unnoticed. He was extremely happy however.
If his career had ended right then a silver medal at the Olympic Games was more than he had ever hoped for. I chatted a little to him but, in all honesty, my main focus was on the man of the day, Queally, and my own impending challenge which, incidentally, nearly ended in a horrific crash.
I shook the young Scot's hand and thought little more of him until in Athens, at the 2004 Games, he smashed the world kilo record, and needed to, in winning a gold medal. In the light of what has since occurred people may have forgotten that particular event, but it remains one of the most stunning feats the man has ever pulled off.
Two Games on, and five golds on, Hoy is a sporting legend, up there in the pantheon of Olympic Gods, a shining example of what grit and determination can achieve, sprinkled with his obvious talent and mental and physical strength. Here's another thing, too.
I remember thinking what a nice guy that young Scot was back in 2000, ever eager, ever interested, and keen to advise and help. In his circumstances many might have changed a little in the ensuing 12 years of national fame. He hasn't. Nice guys can win, it seems, even if I didn't fully realise this back on an autumn afternoon in Manchester when I proved to the greatest achiever in British Olympic history that I, let alone anyone else, would be no threat to his forthcoming dominance.