I started daily training at the age of 14. When I was 16 years old, I was running twice a day.
I became a great runner because if you're a kid in Leeds and your name is Sebastian you've got to become a great runner.
Blink and you miss a sprint. The 10,000 meters is lap after lap of waiting. Theatrically, the mile is just the right length: beginning, middle, end, a story unfolding.
Tomorrow is another day, and there will be another battle!
If you lived in Sheffield and were called Sebastian, you had to learn to run fast at a very early stage.
I've always felt that long, slow distance produces long, slow runners.
World records are only borrowed.
The nine inches right here; set it straight and you can beat anybody in the world.
My mum was critical in getting me to recognise very early on that although what I was doing was pretty serious, quite selfish, and probably to most people pretty obsessive, there actually was more to life than running quickly twice round a track.
My motivation to compete was always about improving one year to the next. At 34, I realised I'd never run any quicker, so why hang on? But I love running and still run along woodland trails and beaches every few days.
Good running is the ability to have a very well defined on-board computer. The ability to judge distances when running in traffic.