On the sidelines

Reading about parkour in the city is almost as bad as watching videos. Makes me restless. Makes me want to drop everything and move back to the grit and the smell and the madness of the city. The grass is always grittier on the other side of the pavement.

Meanwhile, I keep on training. Because a good traceur is a well-trained traceur. So I do lots of specific exercises and mix them up to keep things interesting. Kind of like how Apolo Anton Ohno trained for the Olympics. Those monkey walks are brutal, but my quads and gastrocs are like steel springs. And yeah, I do a lot of plain old running too, to keep up the stamina. Still, it’s hard to sit on the sidelines while other guys are having all the excitement.

Hmm, that hedge-jumping idea is sounding better all the time. I just have to find a big fat hedge that’s in the process of being trimmed — then I’ll have ladders and scaffolds to play with. Of course there’s the problem of trespassing on private property, but we can deal with that later. I’ve got a few friends in the right places who might look the other way if a complaint were to be filed. Especially if they want me to keep writing about them favorably.

It’s a guy’s world

Guys who do parkour are called traceurs. And they’re almost always guys, so shut up all you feminists. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a chick traceur. Not that they can’t be, but there aren’t many chick skateboarders either. It’s a guy thing. Some things are guy things and some are chick things. Biology is destiny. Get used to it.

Why do we do it? That’s a good question. For the exercise, but not entirely. Although it’s a hell of a workout. It’s what Jake Gyllenhaal did to train for Prince of Persia. Which is very nice for him and gives the sport a boost, but to him it’s just a job. The rest of us do it for the thrill, but not entirely that either. It’s more a way to navigate the world on your own terms. It’s you against everything else, and instead of fighting your way through, you’re making yourself part of it, blending in by grabbing on.

That’s what I miss about the city, not having anything to grab onto. I could invent a form of field parkour or beach parkour or hedge-fronted summer cottage parkour. That’s it — I’ll leap across the trimmed boxwood, stun the bejesus out of a few landscapers. The only problem is how to avoid getting scratched up by twigs and brambles as I’m bounding across the greenery this summer. It’ll be hot, I’ll be wearing shorts, that’s not going to be so good for my exposed legs. Gotta work on this some more.

Running in place

Living and working in the country has this city boy missing the thrill of running, leaping, crawling, climbing, soaring across densely packed city streets. Steps, railings, alleyways, curbs, obstacles, levels, layers — there’s not much of it here in this flat fancy land next to the ocean. It’s gorgeous landscape, don’t get me wrong — in some spots perfectly idyllic, great for a morning run or long bike ride. But there isn’t a whole lot to jump over or leap up on. There isn’t much challenge.

Since it looks like I’ll be here for the foreseeable future, until I can get back to the city I’ll have to get my parkour fix by writing about it. It’s not the same, and my body’s twitching to be out there on the streets, but this is my reality and I’m dealing with it.

Parkour, for those of you who aren’t familiar with the term, is kind of what the guys in The Matrix did when they were running from agents — leaping over walls, jumping across chasms, scrambling up fire escapes. Except in the matrix they could be a whole lot more extreme. They’re practically flying. That leap Trinity took in the opening sequence? Don’t even think about trying that at home. In real life the whole experience is  just as thrilling, but more within the bounds of actual human capability. And just barely, with some dudes. I’m pretty adept, but those guys are animals. No human should be able to do what they do. That kind of grace and fluidity is available to only a select few. I’ll never be in their league, but I can still follow the path.