WHEN I was about nine years old I stayed up later than my mum for the first time. I can’t remember whether she wanted an early night or if she simply gave up trying to get me and my brother to go to bed, but either way we ended up watching television past the watershed and I witnessed my first TV sex scene. I can’t remember what I saw exactly, but I do remember being as shocked as I would be today if there was hard-core pornography on the mini television they’ve started putting on buses. I was terrified. Yet at the same time I was unbelievably curious. This internal conflict caused a bizarre knot in my stomach.

I’ve got that same knot in my stomach when I think about the upcoming UCI Track Cycling World Championships in Hong Kong; I’m completely terrified but madly keen to see what happens.

I write this with three weeks left until racing begins, within touching distance of my taper. I’ve only got a precious week and a bit to believe I’ll find improvements but what feels like an eternity in which to make mistakes. An unfair imbalance if you ask me. The events I’m targetting are the omnium on the Friday and the individual pursuit on the Saturday. The running order means I won’t be going into the pursuit fresh but that’s life. It also means I can’t ride the madison (not that selection would have necessarily befallen me) which is on the same day as the pursuit.

Last week, I raced in the finale of the Six Day Cycling series and finished second overall on the night, which came with a substantial prize pot. I wasn’t over the moon with how I’d ridden that night but I’ve used the money to upgrade my flight to Hong Kong. Maybe a good sleep on the flight will stop me from making similar tactical errors at the worlds; a long shot but I’m looking forward to the luxury nonetheless. The upgrade should help me avoid arriving exhausted into the +7 hour time difference between us and Hong Kong. Jetlag is on my (long) list of things to be terrified about. Also on there is having Ed Sheeran’s ‘Shape Of You’ still stuck in my head come race day.

You’ve probably heard the common rhyming adage “west is best, east is . . . not best” in relation to global travel and jetlag. Like anything that rhymes (rain before seven, dry before eleven/red sky at night, shepherd's delight / always put your besties before someone with testes) it’s completely factual and something you can live your life by. I love going west. It’s the equivalent of staying up late and sleeping late and, as you now know, I’ve been trying to do that since my age was a single figure. But east is for the early birds. East is for the person that tucks up in bed with a good book at 8pm then gets up early the next morning shouting “carpe diem!” waking the rest of us up as well. Of course, along with night-owl and early-bird there is the third, well-documented category of constantly-exhausted-goose. They don’t cope well with either direction.

To prepare for my temporary existence as an early bird I’ve bought a sunshine alarm clock to lull me from my slumber earlier than usual, in a less-traumatising manner. For half an hour before the alarm goes, my fancy alarm/lamp starts to gradually increase its brightness until I’m basking in (fake) daylight like a newborn baby. If that baby was born in a terraced house in south Manchester with a very bright lamp in the room. I highly recommend it.

In fact talking about my fancy alarm/lamp has really calmed me down, I can barely feel that knot in my stomach any more. And if I reflect on other areas of my preparation I can say I’ve given myself as best a chance as I know how to turn up to these world champs on form. I’ve been writing my own training plan since the Olympics and had a lot of fun with the freedom, but next month will be the climax (and ultimate test) of the experiment. I persuaded my coach, Paul Manning (multiple Olympic medal winner as both a rider and a coach) that I needed the chance to make some of my own mistakes. Let’s just hope I don’t make all those mistakes at the biggest race of the year.