By the 2001 season, I was taking the banned blood-boosting agent erythropoietin, or EPO, and testosterone in secret training camps before my target races; then, on three occasions, I took cortisone. The EPO and testosterone were anabolic — that is, they built me up; nothing that could be seen physically, although a blood test would reveal the changing numbers in my blood values that would lead to an increase in aerobic performance and improve my ability to recover from hard training efforts. I would make sure the performance-enhancing drugs were used only in training phases where I could be sure I wouldn’t be tested (this was before the athlete whereabouts system existed, so there was no out-of-competition testing). By the time I got to the races, my body was clean, although it carried the benefits of the drugs.

Once I hit my target levels and felt ready for the big push, a doctor would administer the cortisone via an intramuscular injection. In one sense, it would be like hitting a self-destruct button: The moment the drug entered my body, I would become catabolic. The cortisone would start to strip me down, and I began to use my own body as fuel.

First to go would be the excess fat I hadn’t been able to rid myself of, no matter how strict my diet. Then I would start to feel different: My sleep would become restless, yet in the mornings I’d feel more alert than ever. I’d begin to feel physically stronger, able to do things on the bike previously impossible. For me, this would mean being able to push bigger gears, which is the equivalent of lifting heavier weights. The effect was so powerful that the tendons in my knees and ankles would ache from the increased force they were dealing with.

The body’s natural reaction to such overloading is inflammation, but after the cortisone injection, the puffiness I’d normally see in my body disappeared. Veins I didn’t even know existed would bulge through my skin. The effect of a shot of cortisone was palpable, nothing like the subtle differences from the relatively small doses of EPO and testosterone I’d previously taken.

One drug in particular that is available with a T.U.E. has come to light in the Fancy Bears leak: triamcinolone acetonide, more commonly known by its brand names, Kenalog and Kenacort. This is a very powerful synthetic corticosteroid. I know this because I’ve used it, three times: the first for a medical reason, a terrible skin allergy that afflicted me during the final week of the 2001 Vuelta a España (Tour of Spain); the other times, for performance enhancement.

On one occasion, I received a T.U.E. for a fake tendon issue. A doctor simply wrote a prescription for an ankle injury that required an intra-articular injection, although the injection was then administered intramuscularly (at the time, injecting the drug intramuscularly was banned, hence the need to lie on the T.U.E., because, I can only assume, it is more powerful when administered in that way). The maximum dosage I ever took was 40 milligrams, which is in the range of the manufacturer’s recommended dosages.

The Kenacort was so powerful that it was ultimately destructive: Apart from being a catabolic agent, it would also suppress your immune system, making you more susceptible to infections. I didn’t like taking it, but I was so deep into what I was doing at the time that I did what I considered had to be done. Still, I took it only twice after 2001: for the 2002 Vuelta a España and the 2003 Tour de France. Both were big targets, as, for the first time, I was aiming for a high placing in the overall classification, and this required me to be lighter and stronger than ever before. Both times, I took an initial 20 to 40 milligram dose, and then topped up with 10 to 20 milligrams about 10 days later, in order to prolong the effects into the final week of the three-week stage race and to avoid too rapid a descent off it.