I wanted to get back on my mountain bike, I missed biking through the bush but there was one little issue, my broken arm had not yet healed.

I can’t admit to being a huge gym attendee but I felt my chest getting soft, my right shoulder had lost all muscle mass and my biceps felt weak. My upper back hadn’t been worked for weeks and weeks, I feel terrible. So I decided to get fit by cycling but where I was living and working, riding on smooth roads offered limited opportunities. Since this was a mountain bike, my best option was to start riding bust tracks again.

However, I could not fall off, not even at slow speed. I can honestly say I cannot recall being so nervous during an activity. Every time the rear wheel slipped or skidded, a rock kicked out, a pedal strike occurred or the front wheel hit a ditch my heart rate soared. Needless to say, I rode conservatively taking every precaution and over analysing every possible risk that would make a safety representative proud. This was a Sunday morning and under no circumstances did I want to re-fracture my arm before my Wednesday flight.