Figuring out the rules for the points race at the Olympic cycling, you need a calculator and a cool head. It is over by the time you have worked out what is going on.

The men do 40 km over 160 laps, the women 25km over 100 laps. That’s the easy part.

It starts getting complicated when the action hots up with a series of intermediate sprints. Riders get points for winning each sprint. But then any rider who gains a lap on the main bunch is awarded is awarded 20 points. Those losing a lap have 20 points deducted.

Still with it?

The winner is the one with the most points. But what if there is a draw? Then the judges have to check who placed where in the final sprint of the marathon race.

If you thought that was a tough call, try following the rules for the madison and the keirin. The cycling newcomer will shake his head in astonishment, wondering what on earth is happening in these surreal contests.

In the madison, the riders get to hold hands. In the keirin they get to ride behind a man on a moped. Honestly.

The madison has nothing to do with 1960s dance routines. It is a race named after the first time it was run at New York’s Madison Square Garden. Reading the explanatory resume for the race will leave your head in a spin.

There are two-man teams who take turns in riding and sprinting every five kilometres. They trade off by gripping hands with the outgoing lead rider giving the oncoming rider a “handsling” to propel him forward.

Many a cycling newcomer may be tempted to crack up with irreverent laughter watching the keirin, which originated in Japan as a betting race in the 1940s. The moped, with its rider sitting bolt upright in the saddle, sets off as pacemaker to the field. For five and a half laps, his speed gradually increases from 25 to 40 kph. Then he leaves the track and the riders go flat out over the last two and a half laps.

But, arcane rules apart, nothing beats the thrill of watching up close and personal as riders hurtle round the “wall of death” track at angles of up to 47 degrees.

Those magnificent men and women on their cycling machines take your breath away.

I’ve never met Matt Lauer from NBC but I was assured this week that I kicked his ass.

That was the consensus of several USA Cycling experts when I finally rolled off the Olympic velodrome after a gut-wrenching but exhilarating ride.

When Nick Legan, the team mechanic who was riding along with me, told me I was going much higher on the banks than Lauer had when he tried out the track a few days ago, I decided I should go even higher.

I screamed as I reached the top of the steep bank of the Olympic velodrome, then felt the air swish through my helmet as I pedaled around the curve and pushed hard along the straightaway.

I heard someone yell, “Up, up, up, Debbie!” so I powered my way up as high as I could along the next curve, swallowed the urge to scream again, and pedaled even harder to make sure I stayed upright.

I had always wondered how the cyclists managed to stay upright while riding on the steep curves of the velodrome. So I decided to give it a try and USA Cycling obliged by getting approval from velodrome officials and loaning me a bike, a helmet and, most important, expert advice.

“The biggest thing to remember on the track is, it’s all about speed, momentum and centrifugal force,” said Legan, who rode along with me after the last athletes left the track after practice.

“The faster you go, the safer it actually is. That’s how you’re going to stay up on the banking. Trust your tyres. They will stick to this,” he said of the wooden track. “So you’re not going to just fall down.”

Despite his assurances I really was scared. As I clicked my cleats into the pedals and held on to the railing before pushing off, I looked up at the steep banks and just hoped I would not humiliate myself in front of Olympic coaches and officials who were milling about.

When I finally headed off the track the team soigneur, Viggo Christensen, who had been teasing me before I set off and clearly had very low expectations, paid me the biggest compliment I could imagine.

He came over, shook my hand and said, “I’m impressed. It was excellent. It was way beyond good.”

Then team chief Pat McDonough told me I had “kicked Matt Lauer’s ass”.