By Dan | posted on 12 April 2010 | 8 comments


Labels: Experiences, Psychology, Training
By Forrest | posted on 19 March 2010 | 3 comments


Labels: Experiences, Psychology
By Thomas | posted on 12 March 2010 | 7 comments


Labels: Experiences, Psychology, Training
By Dominic | posted on 19 November 2009 | 10 comments


Labels: Psychology
By Dan | posted on 16 October 2009 | 7 comments


I love this. It's a time of immeasurable solitude; just you and the new day, and the frosted, naked city. There is an inner silence to match the outer, nothing but the movement, the breathing, the focus on each step. It's timeless. Endless. No matter what is going on in one's life, whatever challenges and trials exist to be met and overcome, there is always this discipline of the body to return to. An anchor. An old friend. A path with no conclusion, just there - waiting for you to step out and head a little further along it.
It's a path often shared, and such times are a real pleasure and bring their own reward. But in the end it's a personal journey and there is nothing quite like the vast aloneness of such quiet passing through the world, leaving no trace and wanting for none. You expand to fill that space, awareness stretches and merges with your world, the sights, sounds, smells and feel of it. Gradually you fade into it too. And what is left is the body, the breath, the blood, the movement.
Without fail the greatest pleasures in life are the simplest. They are primordial, pure, made of what is and what you brought with you into the world, no more than that. And it's enough. Always enough. These things just are. Just life, just seeing such mornings and being able to flow through them and on into the awakening day. There's a stillness and a calmness in it, a sense of ground. The world and daily life can rage, swirl and shout as much as it wants - this silence endures, lives. Waits. For us to find it again. And when we do it passes no judgement if we have neglected it for a while.
So on I run, moving free and unnoticed, and the world is mine alone for an endless moment. This path, with its distance, its time, its terrain, feeds out behind me and disappears as soon as I have passed. Until only I am left. And then I too am gone. Lungs draw air, a heart pumps blood, muscles pulse and movement happens.
And it's enough.
Labels: Psychology, Training
By Forrest | posted on 6 October 2009 | 6 comments


Le dimanche 13 Avril 2008, je suis gentiment allongé sur mon sofa quand le téléphone sonne, après quelques minutes de conversations, je me lève pour chercher une info sur mon ordi lorsque que je sens comme un étourdissement. Je n’arrive plus à fixer l’image d’Agota et ma façon de parler est un peu trouble. Inquiète, ma femme appelle les urgences. 10 minutes plus tard les infirmiers sont là et me font différents tests. Ils m’emmènent alors à l’hospital où je fait des examens medicaux plus approfondis IRM, CT scan... Le résultat sera: un petit AVC dans la partie arrière de mon cerveau. Le docteur me dit en souriant” Vous avez eu de la chance, vous n’êtes pas mort et rien n’a été endommagé que ce soit sur le plan physique et moteur ou sur le plan psychologique, vous n’aurez aucune paralisie mais nous devons vous garder ici pour faire tous les tests nécessaires. Ils m’ont découvert un souffle au Coeur, c’est peut être une des causes de ce qui est arrivé mais rien n’a été prouvé.Après 10 jours passé à l’hospital, le 23 avril 2008, je me suis fait opérer du Coeur pour fixer ce souffle.
Durant tout ce temps passé à l’hospital pour mon cerveau, mon Coeur et mon genou, j’ai du faire face à:
L a vie n’est pas toujours “un long fleuve tranquille” MAIS c’est la vie. Il n’y a pas de bonnes ou mauvaises expèriences, il n’y a que des expèriences et nous apprenons tous les jours à y faire face. Ce qui ne tue pas rend plus fort...
Ma leçon: “Tu ne pourras jamais réellemment t’épanouir dans la vie et être vrai avec les autres si tu n’est pas capable d’être honnête avec toi même? Ne jamais abandonner, ne jamais perdre espoir et ne jamais laisser les autres ou le contexte te voler ton sourir mais apprendre à relativiser sont pour moi des règles d’or.
Mes parents m’ont toujours dit:“Après la pluie vient toujours le beau temps, même si cela peut prendre du temps “:-)
2008 THE BIGGEST LESSON
(English Translation)
It is the 4th April 2008, I’m coaching Annty and my wife Agota at the precision’s castle (Wandsworth), I go above a railing, my foot stays stuck on the top of the railing, I fall backwards in slow motion. As soon as I touch the floor I hear clack clack. The result is my anterior crucial ligament in my left knee is torn. The operation is scheduled for 11th of November 2008... Everything went well.
It is Sunday 13th April 2008, I’m gently laying on my sofa when the phone rings, after a few minutes of conversation, I stand up to check some information on my computer when I start feeling dizzy, I can’t fix anymore Agota’s image and my way of talking is a bit slurred . My wife is worried, she calls 999. Ten minutes later the ambulance arrives, they do tests to identify what is wrong. They drive me to the hospital where I go through loads of further medical tests such as MRI scan, CT scan etc... The result is: a tiny stroke in the back part of my brain. The surgeon says with a smile:”You were lucky, you’re not dead and nothing has been damaged in your body and your brain. You won’t be paralysed nor have any other damage but we have to keep you here to do all the necessary tests. They find a hole in my heart, it could be one of the reasons for the stroke but nothing has been proved. After staying 10 days at the hospital, I had a heart surgery to fix the hole.
The entire time I spent at the hospital regarding my brain, my heart and my knee, I had to face:
My lesson
“ You will never really be able to blossom in life and be real with the others if you’re not capable to be honest with yourself. Never give up, never lose hope and never let somebody else or a context steal your smile but learn to put things into perspective.” All these are some golden rules for me.
My parents said:” after the rain comes always sunshine” even though sometimes it can take a while”:-)
Labels: Experiences, Psychology
By Andy | posted on 12 September 2009 | 8 comments


In 2008 I had been training with Parkour Generations for a few years at the academy and had naively felt comfortable enough in my abilities to believe that I was at a point in my parkour career to be able to pass my experience and knowledge on to others through teaching and coaching. Obviously I had been taught by Forrest and Dan as well as many of the others in the team and seen how they conduct the classes, so I'm sure I have the ability to do it, right? Hmmm....
I remember my first few classes quite vividly. One word. Disasters. I had suddenly entered a whole new realm of parkour and teaching. All of the training that I had done for myself was a fraction of the experience and understanding I needed to be able to teach it. So many questions had instantaneously entered my brain... The most simplest of things had now become the most complex! For instance... A step vault. Can I accurately explain every aspect of the mechanics behind the step vault? Do I know why we do it that way? Why not with the other foot? Other hand? Which foot do we lead with? Which foot do we land with? Where do the hips have to be? How do I teach a ten year old this? How do I capture the attention of a ten year old to be motivated to do this? How do I break this down for someone with little strength and experience? How do I progress, streamline and offer tips on the same technique to veteran traceurs to help them improve? What's the most likely place people will fall? Where do I stand to spot them? How do I get an entire group, of different abilities, to do this? How do I organise this? How do I make sure they all understand the correct way to do this? What must they watch out for? What are common mistakes? How do I deal with someone who just doesn't understand? What the hell is going on!?!?
Oh dear... I know nothing. My respect for the entire team had suddenly been multiplied by a thousand in a matter of about twenty seconds. I now understood the skill and experience it takes to teach an Academy class of fifty people while answering any questions and queries, reacting to different situations, ensuring everyone is safe, gaining maximum potential out of everyone, allowing everyone to have fun and keeping the classes upbeat and enjoyable!
Through the following year, along with the rest of the team, I have, on a daily basis, been put into many different and varied teaching scenarios which have tested all aspects of my parkour and teaching abilities. Some have gone better than others, but all of these situations have taught me more than I had ever hoped about myself, the discipline and my colleagues. Now I am beginning to feel more comfortable with teaching, but know I still have an eternity of learning to do.
The initial fears and frustrations have now faded away but the simple fact is that the more I teach, the more I learn and the more I learn, the more there is to be learnt. Being someone who thrives on knowledge, I guess this is a pretty good situation to be in. I'm just glad that I am in an environment that allows me to learn in the correct way.
There are a million aspects to comprehend and I think it is imperative to have the physical fundamentals, spirit and ethos firmly cemented into your subconscious by spending time with those with the experience to make sure you are on the right path... otherwise, there is just too much that can be skewed, misinterpreted and misunderstood. For these reasons I'm glad that the new A.D.A.P.T qualification is on its way. It's something that will give developing traceurs/traceuses and athletes around the world the option to learn how to TEACH properly and ensure that parkour, as a discipline, is advanced further in the best way possible for all of us as a community. This, I completely believe, is a great thing.
As for me, I'm just excited to find out what we're all going to learn at class tomorrow. :)
Labels: Experiences, Psychology, Training
By Dan | posted on 3 September 2009 | 11 comments


Who can jump the furthest? Who can run the fastest or climb the highest? Who can face the most danger? Who can do the most twists in a somersault? How could we get to a place in our minds where any of these things matter to us? Arbitrary things, all of them: quick to come and quicker to go; easily gained or lost, easily learned or forgotten; affected by the most random and trivial of things, such as lever length, genetics, training, tendon and ligament position, anatomy, injury, predisposition, substances, drugs, nurture, nature, anything! Meaningless. So where is the meaning? What gives our movement meaning?
In a few score years you will be gone. A few more decades after that the walls and gaps you jump will be gone too. Fast forward a few millennia and the very rock and stone it all rested upon will be altered, changed, and – eventually – gone too. Enough time and the planet itself will be stardust again, swallowed by a red giant. No records will stand then, no medals or points, not even the memory of those things. Transient, to be sure. Heraclitus said it best, ‘Everything flows; nothing remains’. So what does it matter that you can jump 11 feet rather than 10? Is it just ‘to be better’, is it our nature to want to improve for improvement’s sake? Is it that we must constantly prove ourselves to ourselves? Does it all come down to our conditioning, the need to compare and compete both within and without ourselves?
I hope not.
I think not.
What matters, surely, is us. What gives it all meaning, is us.
The temporal nature of things does not render them meaningless, not at all – quite the opposite. It is the very fact that all things are transient that bestows upon those things the potential for ultimate meaning – because that thing, that jump, that moment is unique and unrepeatable: much like us. So it really does matter, quite a lot, what you do with that moment! It is us who give meaning to the moments and the actions, both our intentions for and our actual experience of them, and each moment will be nothing more nor less than what we make of it. So if you do this jump simply in order to impress others, for example, or to beat your rival in a contest, and that is your motivation, that is your goal, your desire, then that moment’s or action’s meaning is no more than that: a flash of primal ego, driven by a no-doubt genetically-fuelled will to power. And where is the meaning in that? Is that really the best we can do?
But infuse that same moment with a will to understand who you are, through challenge, through adversity, through movement, and instantly that same arbitrary jump becomes filled with meaning, with power and substance. It will resonate in you, and throughout your life, and no doubt long after your body is dust. It means something.
In the end, the movements don’t matter. Truthfully, the art doesn’t matter – you could experience this in any action, in gardening, or fighting, or the study of quantum physics: what matters is you who practice the art, for you are what gives it meaning in any and every moment. So what does it mean, ‘to be strong’? Why is being strong better than being weak? Is it at all? Or is the process of becoming strong just a vehicle, a path for us to focus our own understanding of ourselves, our world, our lives, and our place in the order of things? And if so, does it then follow that the only real ‘success’ can be found through edging closer to that understanding, that indeed all knowledge is only self-knowledge?
In this case, a traceur’s true test is not in how far he can jump, or how quickly he can move, or how many muscle-ups he can complete, or even in his level of ability: but rather it is in what he finds in the art – what he finds in himself.
Labels: Psychology
By Kiell | posted on 18 August 2009 | 3 comments


Labels: Psychology
By Dan | posted on 15 August 2009 | 8 comments


Yet in the practice of parkour there is also a war being fought: a psychological battle that we are presented with every time we step up to a jump or a movement we have not yet mastered, every time the fear of failure or falling rests its dark gaze upon us and tells us to give up, to go home, to try it another day, to excuse ourselves into accepting defeat. This opponent is, of course, our own self, manifesting through the challenge of the terrain we encounter in our training. And it is an opponent that simply can’t be beaten by playing smart, or working within our limits. It has to be faced head-on, confronted in a very primal sense and wrestled with until either it, or you, submits.
This is where we need some old-fashioned ‘grunt’. This is also the part of our training that is not so easily managed. Becoming strong, or fit, or fast, or to learn to move well, is not that complicated a procedure: apply the right training regularly enough and you will see results. Simple.
Dealing with the mind, however, is anything but.
It is impossible to tell how someone is going to react to the challenge of the self in this situation – will they be cowed by the fear, or will they rise to overcome it? Will they demonstrate the inner strength required to carry themselves through these struggles, or will they look for an easier road? The harsh truth is that until we are faced with the battle we have no idea as to how we will react. Nor will anyone else be able to gauge infallibly how a given individual will fare when in this type of situation: many times we have seen practitioners excel during ‘safe’ aspects of training, perhaps at an indoor class, only to baulk when faced with the same movements in an environment they perceive as more ‘high-risk’.
The mind is the most slippery of opponents, and the most cunning, and the most persistent. And it will use very trick in the book to encourage you to give up the fight. ‘You’re tired today’, it will whisper. Or perhaps, ‘it’s a bit wet still from the rain, best to leave it for another day.’ ‘Don’t push yourself too much, you may get injured’, it will warn. And finally it may reassure you, ‘you can always come back and do it tomorrow. Let’s finish for the day.’ But listen to this sibilant voice every time, and soon it will extinguish the fire within you completely: and one day when you really do want to make the jump, you find you just can’t summon up the strength.
How do we prevent this? By not listening to the voice – or at least not very often. You have to fight these inner battle and win more often than you lose. So listen to what the voice has to say (who knows, once or twice it may actually be talking sense!), take heed of its warnings and its advice – then file them away under ‘noted’, tell it to shut the hell up and get back to overcoming whatever particular obstacle you find in your path.
There are myriad different methods to fighting this war – I won’t say ‘winning’ because it’s not one that can ever be won absolutely – and I have seen individuals successfully employing very different strategies: visualisation techniques, distraction techniques, anger, mantras, music… but somewhere along the line, all these individuals step forward with a look of sheer determination, resolute, committed: and do the jump. That’s the ‘grunt’; that’s the moment of willpower – and it is a moment of self-mastery in a very real sense. For everything inside them is likely screaming at them to step down, to be sensible, to play it safe, and yet they are able to master these thought processes, put them to one side and choose to complete the action. They are in control of their body at this point, and not their fear or any other part of the ‘mad monkey’ that is the mind. It’s great to see someone achieve this state, and it’s even better to feel it for yourself.
When it happens, it’s a battle won. The war will continue, however. This is a war that never ends, after all. The opponent is tireless, relentless, and remorseless. It will be waiting on the battlefield every single time we decide to set foot thereon, arms folded and with a knowing smile. It has seen us before, it knows us intimately – perhaps better than anyone else knows us in life – and it knows precisely how to break us. Conversely, though, we know it just as well, and understand perfectly the challenge it will present us with each time we respond to the call to arms.
It’s a level playing-field: we just have to play out of our skins.
Labels: Challenges, Psychology, Training
By Dominic | posted on 15 July 2009 | 4 comments


Labels: Psychology
By Johann VIGROUX | posted on 9 July 2009 | 3 comments


Labels: Experiences, Injuries, Psychology
By Forrest | posted on 5 July 2009 | 6 comments


Labels: Challenges, Psychology
By Peter Bell | posted on 15 June 2009 | 7 comments


Labels: Psychology
By Dominic | posted on 13 June 2009 | 21 comments


Labels: Psychology
By Peter Bell | posted on 14 May 2009 | 9 comments


Labels: Psychology
By Dominic | posted on 13 May 2009 | 18 comments



It was the best feeling, but somehow I was more proud this time of how I approached the jump not the jump itself. I then drilled this jump quite a few more times to make sure that it stuck this time.
My second jump was not as long a story (I’m sure you’re pleased to hear) but started after training one day. I was looking around with Blane and James and we came across a gas pipe on the side of some flats, I climbed up a few times to check that it was secure and to see where I could go from there… turned out not very far. But across from it was a low roof and the wheels in my head began to turn. Climbing on top of the roof we looked across at the pipe, I suggested that if someone wanted to they could running jump from the roof and catch the pipe then climb down. The guys agreed and blane began to size it up, seeing this I decided I couldn’t be the one to suggest it then not give it a go so also warmed-up for it. Initially it appeared quite close and considering some of the other jumps I had looked at earlier was well within reach but as I got ready to go that fear and uncertainty came back, this wasn’t helped by the fact that when looking head on it appears as if the pipe is flat against the wall with no space for your hands and that the edge where you would take your last step is loose. Control and accuracy was a must. While looking at it I decided that no matter what I was doing that jump then, not tomorrow, not when I felt better or more rested but then so as not to allow it to build up in my head. After looking at it a couple more times I got out my ipod and put on a track to get me psyched up then went for it.
Again that overwhelmingly good feeling you get from succeeding at something challenging came flooding in and I repeated it a couple times (without the ipod) to make sure. I went back there a couple weeks after with brian to get the pic for the blog and was happy to find that in acknowledging it may still be scary when you return was able to repeat it no problem.
So to sum up my painfully long post I found:
1. It’s important to view each jump as it is then and there and accept that if you’re afraid you’re afraid, that doesn’t mean you let the fear beat you.
2. If you choose to do the jump then do it. Don’t spend 2hours looking at the same spot because in that time your only reinforcing your fear and inability to do it. Come back some other time if need be.
3. Understand and trust in your own abilities. Some things should affect your jump/movement i.e. surface conditions or weather but some things have no real bearing on your skills i.e. height. If you can jump 5ft on the floor there’s nothing that having a big drop below you can really do to your 5ft jump, it’s your mind.
And so ladies and gentlemen we come to that part where you tell me about your challenge! Remember it doesn’t have to be long or detailed if you don’t want to just a little bit about it, the ways in which you prepare for it or even just how you felt? All questions and comments will be read and appreciated so….uh….go!
Labels: Challenges, Psychology
By Chris | posted on 9 May 2009 | 3 comments


Labels: Psychology
By Johann VIGROUX | posted on 5 May 2009 | 1 comments


Labels: Psychology