I started mountain biking again a couple of months ago. Before Master B came along, my husband and I would head out to the nearest mountain bike park and go riding pretty frequently in the weekends. It was something we enjoyed doing together, and I loved the mix of challenge and fun it provided. Getting back into mountain biking has been one of my goals post-bub. De quervains - a painful condition I developed in both thumb tendons about six weeks after Master B was born - and an old knee injury that's flared up, have meant postpartum recovery has been hard physically.

A few months ago I felt ready to hop back on the bike, but it's been much more challenging than I anticipated.

The last time I mountain biked was about two years ago. Since then, my body has housed, nourished and grown another human being, been through major surgery, recovered from injuries, supplied milk 24/7, been sleep-deprived, cradled and carried with tired arms, stretched and widened, and looked after me.

At times I have felt it is broken and that I will never be able to do the things that I once loved - like mountain biking or snowboarding.

Getting back into mountain biking again feels like a milestone. It feels like another point in the journey that helps me to feel like me again. But at times I have just wanted to curl up and cry. The loss of confidence in my body's abilities is hard. I feel a lot of fear and frustration. At times it feels I have never mountain biked before.

Maybe it's because I have never ridden in this body. This body that has gone through so much for me. This body that has shown up for me time and time again. This body that knows what to do.

The first day I rode I hopped off the bike to walk down slopes that before would have felt like nothing. I felt like a might vomit after riding up an incline. The next weekend I conquered those slopes, and the weekend after that I rode up even more of the hill - no spew in sight.

Today I did more than the week before. I went over roots that a month ago I walked over. I went downhill and felt the beautiful flow of the bike move through the forest.

It's hard to compare myself to what I used to be able to do. Two years has gone past. My body has been through a lot, and so have I. Maybe it's okay to have fear, maybe it's normal. But I won't let it stop me - slowly, I'm getting my confidence back. Slowly I'm learning to trust my body and ability again. Slowly my mind will let go of the fear and will enjoy the ride again.