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Winning the silver medal at my first Olympic Games was a huge achievement for me. Our team still holds the European and Commonwealth record for the 4 × 400 metres relay even now. I was training with Colin Jackson and mixing with all of the great athletes at the time, like Linford Christie and the decathlete Daley Thompson, so I was really learning from the best. I was one of a successful group of athletes who were recognised wherever we went, and life was fun.

I was winning all of my races and I felt on top of the world. I knew I was strong and my confidence seemed to affect those I raced against – they were worried by me. When I entered races my opponents saw me as favourite and that made them more nervous. I was even asked on American television to speak about the great Michael Johnson, and asked if I thought I could take him on. I'm sure he would have beaten me but I was proud that they had suggested I had a chance against such a champion. I was a clear favourite in the Indoors races and looked forward to the World Indoor Championships in Paris that year. All my family, my parents, Susannah and Jay, my sister, aunts and uncles came to watch me in Paris, expecting a big success. Even a school friend, Dean Harris from Risca Comprehensive, flew to Paris just for the event.

Sadly, it was not to be a success for me. I hate to talk about it even now. I got to the final of the competition but my inexperience in handling the pressure of a World Championships individual final got to me. I was rooming with Colin but he was much more used to these competitions, and didn't spot how badly I was affected by the occasion. I remember feeling completely lost and alone on the morning of the final. I didn't know how to cope. I was suddenly very nervous and couldn't control my feelings. Jennifer Stoute, the British sprinter, tried to keep me calm and make me feel more comfortable but I couldn't settle my nerves. Suddenly, it hit me that everyone was expecting me to win and I couldn't deal with it in my usual way. The comfort zone of my life and childhood had disappeared and I felt completely out of my depth. I knew how to win the race but I felt too sick to eat and drained by all the pressure that was on me.

I went to warm up on my own and the only other person there was the German athlete Grit Breuer. She was warming up with her coach and this made me feel even more alone. Colin, my coach and mentor, had to prepare for his own performance in the 60 metres hurdles so I couldn't go to him for advice. I tried hard to get myself motivated but I was scared and, even though I knew I had the ability to win, my mind took over. I wanted someone to help me out of this feeling but there was no one who could. Now I know that it was up to me to give myself the support, and find strength within myself to win. But at that time, I couldn't help myself. The weather was cold and grey and it felt like my mood. I wasn't confident about even walking into the stadium. I didn't feel good about anything.

The race started and the first 200 metres of the race was fine as I went through in 21.30 seconds. But on the back straight of the second lap, I felt my hamstring tugging and I was passed by Sunday Bada from Nigeria. He went on to beat me by about a tenth of a second and took the gold. I can remember thinking that he had just won the race I needed to have won.

That tenth of a second was enormous to me. Yes, I had got a silver medal but on the winners' rostrum all I could think was that I had failed and let everyone down. It was the best medal I had won indoors, but it wasn't what I was expected to get and second best just wasn't good enough. Meeting my mum and dad and girlfriend and family afterwards was terrible. No one knew what to say to me. It was the most awful feeling and in the post-race interviews I could see that the interviewers were disappointed too. I hated the question from the reporters, ‘How do you feel?' I felt dreadful – what else could I say to them?

I flew home on the same flight as Colin that evening and went back to the flat alone. Susannah and Jay were still in Paris as I had come home on the athletes' flight. I sat looking at my silver medal, knowing that the outside world was carrying on as usual; but my world was still. Without my family to talk to it was so much worse. It was a huge lesson to me about life. All I could think was that I was alone in Cwmbrân, I was a devastated World Indoors Silver medallist, but life was going on around me despite how I was feeling. I had a really tough time being on my own that evening. I realised that the world didn't revolve around me and winning medals. It put my life and sport into perspective and, once again, showed me how much I relied on others. Perhaps that was the lesson for me. I was expected to win and what I learned was that you have to get your strength from within and not rely on anyone else. I wasn't ready to cope with the title of World Champion and needed support.

Never again. Next time I went out I knew that I had trained hard, I believed in myself and I was in charge of my destiny. Next time I knew how to prepare and I knew even more how to rely on myself. The hard thing for me had been the questioning of myself. Next time I went for a title, there was no question.

The year 1997 improved, however. The World Championships in Athens meant our relay team would be back together. I was now coached by Linford Christie. He was a brilliant coach and I enjoyed my time with him. I still get on very well with him. He was great at motivating his athletes before any race. In this year, he took all of us – Katherine, Darren, Paul and me – into a room and told us to listen to the lyrics on the track he was about to play for us. He said, ‘I could give you a speech but I won't … listen to this.' He then put on R Kelly's ‘I believe I can fly'. All of us listened with huge lumps in our throats and we struggled to look at each other. The words were perfect for the goal we had been set. We were very emotional and the track became the one I used to play time and time again to set me up for my races.

I also competed in the World Championship 400 metres individual event, and actually beat the great Michael Johnson in the heats to make it to the final. Sadly, though, the pressure got to me and I came eighth in the final, so I knew I had something to make up in the relay. The team was the same four members as for the Olympics but the order had changed. Selecting the running order for a relay is all about team tactics and playing to individuals' strengths. The first leg runner must have control and be able to run at an even pace. To run the second leg, you need to be aware of your surroundings and have a fast turnover to get the team set up. The job of the third leg runner is to hold the position and to be a consistent runner that the others can rely on. Finally, the fourth leg runner, or anchorman, has to be very courageous and strong under pressure.

I was now on third leg and would be following Roger Black. Iwan Thomas had a great first leg and Roger faced the American Antonio Pettigrew, who ran an amazingly fast race. When I got the baton, we were in third position and quite far back, with America and Jamaica ahead. I knew I had to give Mark Richardson a chance and I went off, catching up and overtaking the American and in the process making up a huge deficit. In the home straight, the American passed me but even then we were only a couple of metres behind as I handed over the baton. Mark ended up a close second and I think that was one of the best relay legs of my career because I made up such a lot of ground in a World Championship final.

The crowd had gone wild as I spurted ahead in the back straight. David Coleman, commentating for the BBC, had said during the race, ‘Wait Jamie! Wait! Don't go!' which I felt was oddly negative. I'd run my heart out and tried to do the utmost for my team in the best way I knew how. We were all bitter at coming second again and hugely disappointed, and our celebrations after the race didn't have the same feel as at the Olympics the year before. But the Americans were just so strong, and, in the end, we had done well to get the silver. Adrian Thomas and Steve Perks, two Welshmen, were great relay coaches who we had had huge respect for and our medal was as much for them as it was for us.

Sadly, in 2007 came news that Antonio Pettigrew from the victorious American team had admitted to using banned substances to aid his performance. We all felt cheated because we had spent so many years disappointed with our performance at not gaining the gold. We were upgraded, but the gold medal was a tarnished one as we had lost out on the ceremony and hearing the anthem play for us. We campaigned to receive our medals as a team so that we might enjoy the success that was denied to us in 1997. As it turned out, however, Iwan and I were given our medals at the National Assembly's Senedd building in Cardiff. We didn't even get the original medals or replicas of them, which was bitterly disappointing and lessened their worth in our eyes. We would have liked to have been presented with the medals at a major athletics meet to show that we were being recognised as a team for our achievement. When you compete as an athlete, you compete to win and winning like this is very sad. However, the real sadness in all of this is that Antonio Pettigrew committed suicide in 2010, leaving behind a wife and son. That to me is the real tragedy from all of this. Sport is not worth cheating for. To win is great but not at any price.

I can honestly say that I trained really hard to be the best I could and to make my parents proud of me. I worked hard for my family, my children, my friends and for everyone who came to watch me. I never really ran for the money but I always ran for the medals, even as I became more successful. As a boy, my parents used to take me to the local running tracks to what were called ‘Medal Meetings' and for winning at those I got my medal and my steak!

I can look at my medals and feel proud of what I've achieved. But being deprived of a medal because of someone else's cheating is a bitter pill to swallow.

In 1998 we won the European Championships 400 metres relay in Hungary. This time I was sharing with Iwan. He was an absolute genius on the track but a bag of nerves and not at all positive before he went out to compete. 1998 was his year but he was still like a frightened rabbit and it was up to me to give him the reassurance he needed.

Then we trained together in South Africa in preparation for the World Cup, and we raced against each other at the Commonwealth Games in Kuala Lumpur, where we had time to talk to each other on the track as we ran together. However, in the final, just as the starter was about to call us to our marks, I realised I had a very expensive Tag Heuer watch on and that I couldn't run wearing it. I threw it to someone in the crowd and could only remember that the man had grey hair and a yellow coat. It was all I could think about during the race and at 200 metres in I suddenly realised I was in a race and had to get my mind on the job. I totally ruined my race because of a watch!

Remembering my disappointment at the World Indoor Championships in Paris two years earlier, I knew I had to put things right at the World Indoor Championships in 1999 in Maebashi, Japan. I'd be running as an individual there. I went to Australia to train and came fourth in a small race and felt completely devastated. I panicked and felt like I had in Paris.

Then I went to train with the legendary sprinter Frankie Fredericks, from Namibia. He ran with me and built my confidence without either of us realising quite how much. He was a stunning sprinter but I was able to keep up with him and I knew then that he was giving me the confidence I needed ahead of the race. I was thrilled to be able to keep up with such a sprinting icon over 200 metres. I even told my good friend Darren Campbell before the race that I would use my 400 metres winner's money to pay for a top-notch meal for us and the rest of the team.

My confidence was high and at the warm-up track I didn't let the situation get the better of me. I could see the other competitors warming up, doing their drills, and I refused to let them intimidate me. I stood my ground and my confidence got to them; they moved aside to let me complete my drills. I really wanted to win. Out on the track I can remember thinking
Relax
, until near the end when I kicked away from the rest of the field and I crossed the line as World Champion. I had destroyed the demons that were in my head and got rid of the awful memories of Paris.

I ran to phone my dad from the track and said, ‘Dad! Your son is World Champion!' He burst out crying and that, for me, was the best prize ever. To make my father proud was like being in my own Rocky movie. I was alone in Japan but this time I didn't need anyone supporting me because I'd got my confidence from within. I have a great deal to thank Frankie Fredericks for because his training sessions gave me the boost I really needed. Athletics is 90% belief. You can have talent but unless you believe strongly in yourself you'll never win.

A combination of things led to my retirement from the sport even though I was running well. I got injured and realised how much I was missing my family. My second son, Morgan, was born in 2003 and saying goodbye to the boys and Susannah, to be away for long periods of time, got harder and harder. To be a successful athlete you have to be selfish and put yourself first. I had three people at home who I really wanted to be with and who were first in my eyes. Susannah was finding it difficult that as a family we were apart for such long periods and I phoned my coach at the time, Innocent Egbunike, and told him that I needed to go home. He was a wonderful coach and a wonderful friend, and saying goodbye was very emotional. His saying to me whenever we trained was ‘Speak the truth and shame the devil.' I had to tell the truth and I had to go home. People have asked me if I have regretted it but I had a great time in sport, and all the wonderful things that I have been able to do since because of my sport make it all worthwhile.

Athletics has given me an awful lot. I have made great friends in the sport and although we don't see each other regularly, we are all in touch. Fellow athletes from home and competitors from around the globe have been an important part of my career. I've been lucky enough to meet some of my heroes, too, and I know how important those people have been for me. I used to love watching the American sprinter and long jumper Carl Lewis. To me he was an absolute legend, with his ten Olympic medals, nine of which were gold. I met him at the Olympics in 1996 and I had my photo taken with him and that made me really proud. Now he's a friend of mine on Facebook! We don't chat but we are linked and this is amazing to me.

I loved Daley Thompson, the decathlon double Olympic gold medallist, too. He was a hero in Britain when I was growing up. He took the sport to a new level because he wasn't just a sports star, he was a hero. Everyone loved him. He was outspoken, he was funny and he was a winner. We all thought he was a huge character but he was also committed and totally believed in himself. He knew he would win. He even trained on Christmas Day! As a youngster I saw him competing and wanted to be as good as that. He made the Adidas brand cool. Recently, I did some work with him for BBC Sport Relief and we exchanged mobile numbers and we keep in touch. When he phones, I still think: That's Daley Thompson – the Daley Thompson!

Colin Jackson and Linford Christie are two other heroes in athletics but to me they're my mates as well, and I'm proud to call them that.

The 400 metres is my event and the ultimate 400 metres runner for me is the great Michael Johnson. Michael's speed is phenomenal. I've raced him several times. His ability is incredible and he has inspired me because of his talent and achievements. He has a huge aura and wherever he goes, people stop to give him respect. Even when he was warming up at the track, all the other athletes would stop to watch him, even those competing in field events. He has always been one of athletics' key figures and continues to inspire younger athletes who long to emulate his achievements.

Gareth Edwards was my dad's hero. I used to watch my dad on International rugby days sitting on the living room floor with his hands in the air shouting at the Welsh rugby team on the television, ‘Come on! Come on!' I have wonderful memories of seeing him screaming with joy as his hero scored. Years later I was with Gareth on an evening out and remember looking at him and thinking: That is Gareth Edwards and he is a legend and my dad's hero. I had to phone my dad to tell him who I was with and I asked Gareth to speak to him. I was so proud that after all my dad had done for me, I could make his day too! I know my dad went to the rugby club the next day to tell everyone who he had spoken to. Heroes are important to us all.

I went with Colin Jackson to the Brit awards in 1997. Colin and Vinnie Jones were giving an award to the Manic Street Preachers. I dressed for the event in Armani and D&G, and everyone said I looked the business. All the celebrities of the time had been invited and our table included Louise Redknapp. Even Mrs Merton was there! Suddenly, across the room, I saw Lauryn Hill, the singer from the Fugees. I was a massive fan and Colin, Linford and I had seen them perform in concert in Australia a month before. I couldn't believe she was in the same room as me and, like a schoolboy, pointed her out to Colin. Colin was much more used to show business events than I was and his reaction was less excitable. He suggested we go over to meet her and I followed like a lapdog. Colin introduced himself to Wyclef Jean who was with Lauryn. She looked annoyed at being interrupted but then she turned to me and exclaimed, ‘You're the 400 metres runner!' I couldn't speak. All I could think of was that she knew who I was! She started talking to me about how much she had loved track and field when she was in school and her favourite distance was 400 metres. I couldn't believe it! She knew my races but, more importantly, she knew who I was! It was one of the best moments in my life.

Later on, Colin went off to present his award and I ended up backstage with the legend Sir Tim Rice. I looked at the television backstage which was screening the event and couldn't believe it as Prince came up on stage. Sir Tim Rice had to reassure me it was live – I thought it must be an old programme showing! Two of my heroes in one evening was just too much! I had always had posters of Prince all over my walls. I went outside to wait next to the ramp near the stage and he walked past me, surrounded by huge bodyguards. Like a king, they put a long black coat around his shoulders which he shrugged off regally. He put his guitar down and we stood feet apart from each other. He looked at me. I opened my mouth to try to speak but the words just wouldn't come out. I was totally star-struck and he went off somewhere else. I immediately phoned up Susannah, leaving a message on her answer machine that made no sense. I could have kicked myself for not finding the voice to say anything to him at all.

As an athlete, I was an entertainer and loved showing off to the crowd. When I retired I wanted to feel the same buzz. Athletes are modern day entertainers, strutting and parading before their races, especially the sprinters. It was natural that I would do some television work. I was part of a television show called
Energize
and I found myself having to learn new skills to become a host for the show. It was a sports programme for young people and each week I tested a new sport with them and brought on champions like Dennis Bergkamp, the footballer, to talk about their sport. I also appeared on
A Question of Sport
on a regular basis and
They Think It's All Over
.

Appearing on the
Big Breakfast
with Denise van Outen was great fun! I had to be interviewed on the bed, which was quite convenient as I had been out late the night before, and thought it a good idea to get forty winks before filming. Suddenly the light came on to say we were live and she began asking me questions about my athletics and I was still half asleep! I also competed in
Superstars
for BBC1 and came third, so I'm very proud of that when you see the other athletes who took part, such as Sir Chris Hoy, Amir Khan, Alan Baxter, and of course, Colin Jackson. I keep having to test myself as I feel challenges are important and I've never been one to take the safe route. I also took part in a reality programme on BBC2,
Safari School
, where I joined a game reserve and learnt how to become a ranger alongside other celebrities from
Holby City
,
Neighbours
and
Bad Girls
. The school was on the Shamwari game reserve in South Africa and the challenge was to survive out in the bush using the skills we had been taught. There were some scary moments when I wished I was back on the track. Once, we were cut off by a herd of elephants who wanted to stampede us. The secret we had been taught in the bush is never to run. We all moved briskly which became a jog and finally a run and on camera you can see the fear on our faces as we made it to the jeep just in time. In another incident, we realised the difference between meeting lions in the zoo and being placed in their territory and their environment. Again, we knew not to turn away from a lion's gaze, but it was very hard as they caught sight of us and started walking slowly towards us. I suddenly felt serious fear, being close to such a powerful animal with such presence. My claim to fame during the competition was that we had to make a fire and cook venison for a well-known chef from South Africa. I cooked for the boys' team and our meat won for the best flavours. I knew my mum would be really proud of me for that!

Another challenge was taking part in
Cirque de Celebrité
on Sky television when I learnt to become a circus act. Again, I was competing against a range of other celebrities like the model Emma B, Kenzie from Blazin' Squad and Mark Bright, the footballer. Each week we were live and learning a new circus art. It was extremely scary, even more so when I learnt that in the first week Simon Cowell was in the audience looking up at me!

I had to juggle and spin and move acrobatically, on top of a large ball. We were taught by Carmen who was a very hard taskmaster but when you got something right she was quick to offer praise. I really practised because I knew from my days in sport that only practice makes perfect. One stunt I had to do was on a trapeze, high up in the air. Shortly into the routine, I got into difficulties and I wasn't able to follow the procedure they had taught me. I wasn't able to kick wide enough and suddenly I could feel the trapeze giving way and I was hurtling to the floor. There was no safety net, just one man beneath holding a safety rope which took my weight. As the rope spun through his hands it finally became taut about a metre from the ground. I had fallen from a huge height and it completely unnerved me! I got a sense of just how dangerous circus acts are. The life may be exciting but it wasn't for me. I was glad to come out in one piece. I have huge respect for anyone who works with circus arts. They have the balance and grace of some of the greatest athletes in the world and they put as much effort into their training, too.

Even though I have retired from professional sport, I still can't leave sport totally. I was invited by Steve McNamara, Head Coach of the Bradford Bulls rugby league team, to work with them as a sprinting coach to improve their speed training, and enjoyed being part of a very different environment. I met with them at Odsal Stadium in Bradford and was genuinely excited to be given the chance to work using my skills in a different field. I gave motivational talks and mini-sprint sessions and they seemed to really welcome working in this way as a change.

I also enjoy coaching football projects, helping promising young footballers with their sprinting skills. I have worked with players from a number of different clubs from Cardiff City to Manchester City and I love seeing the difference I can make. Youngsters respond so well to trying something new. I tell them in my first session that starting a sprint is like a pilot about to take off. The trick is to keep low so that you always have a smooth take off and don't jerk as you go into full speed. It's surprising how effective little stories like this can be in getting a message across. It's often the simple things that stick in the mind longest, and can really make a difference.