Long ago I began to think that the essence of parkour actually happens between the application of the ‘techniques’ themselves; in the spaces between. It’s the use of those spaces that makes the difference between good parkour and simply good stunts or tricks. A balanced and well paced run-up, for example, makes a good jump happen; efficient and dynamic steps after a landing maintain momentum going into the next movement; coming out of a roll with balance and stability provides the ability to flow seamlessly on towards the next set of challenges. For me the parkour happens in those spaces, in that larger movement that contains the individual techniques. And it’s often neglected.

I look at those techniques – the difficult jumps, the tricky landings, the dynamic vaults – as equivalent to peak experiences in life: they are what we train for and strive for, but in truth they come and go quite quickly and, in isolation, mean very little. Only in context do they have a point. That context is constituted by everything that precedes and succeeds those peak moments: the movements are given meaning by everything that comes before and after them. The spaces between.

The real quality of our movement, as of our lives, is held in the way we deport ourselves in those larger and less obviously glorious spaces. Who are we when not overcoming a great physical challenge or achieving some stupendous athletic feat? Who are we when not enduring a rigorous test of the mind or pushing ourselves to our limits? Who are we in those spaces between, in our daily living, our simple movement between jumps? Who are we in every moment, not just the ones that require our focus and presence in its entirety?

It seems to me that that is the true test of our character, just as it is the true test of our movement. To rise to an immediate and threatening challenge is something most of us will naturally do, it’s probably part of our nature as those who seek to uncover our potential and squeeze every drop out of it. But how well do we maintain those virtues, that inner strength, throughout the days when we are not engaged in such life-and-death moments? Do we still act with the same immediacy of thought? Do we still remember to use our fear and not be used by it? Do we carry that self-discipline and self-awareness we have in training on into the rest of our lives? If not, why not?

Parkour, like all great practices, is an art of living. It is not something you do for an hour or two and then forget or put aside. The point of these arts is that they reveal aspects of ourselves that we strive to hold onto, they uncover and polish something quite pure and bright within us: what a loss to then leave that shining thing on the training ground and live out the rest of one’s day in relative darkness.

Surely the point is, when we discover just what we can be, to then let that knowledge and that practise infuse all parts of our life, so that we can begin to take on more permanently that concentrated ‘us’ we find in our peak experiences. And that can only be done in the quiet stretches of our days, when nothing very special seems to be going on and our character is tested in more routine, but no less significant, ways. It can only be done in the spaces between.

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.

So it seems the weekend class on a Sunday has been a great success so far with the class numbers growing by the week and with a slightly longer class of two hours, it gives us plenty of time to train and kick start our Sundays with a healthy dose of Parkour. Already we've completed the cycle of locations and this coming Sunday we're heading back to Earlsfield for more of the same!

With an emphasis on improving fitness and basic techniques but aimed at all levels, the weekend class is a great opportunity to train if you find yourself too busy in the week with work or educational commitments. Veterans and beginners, boys and girls alike are welcome and will be challenged respectively.

Last Sunday saw us training at a park near Bethnal Green tube station and as usual we started the morning with a warm up and a 15-20 minute run.

Next up we worked on a route consisting first of a tricky little jump, landing with either one foot or two, followed by some balance and a precision down to a lower wall. After Andy and I were sure everyone had improved and had helped those who needed some guidance, we decided to move on to some off-ground traversing challenges and climbing drills.

With forearms burning we moved immediately on to training some wall runs, where those who were new to Parkour had a chance to work on the technique and the others were encouraged to improve their speed and control throughout the motions. Training techniques like this is always more interesting after the same muscles have been worked beforehand and this instance was no different.

With arms growing tired we switched to some plyometric leg training in the form of dynamic jumps over a series of hurdles. With 6-7 hurdles in a row, those who had good timing could jump over one and immediately bounce straight over the next, continuing until the end. Drills like this are a great way to build leg power and develop timing.

Finally we moved on to some lumbar exercises with two rails before stretching and cooling off in the Sunday afternoon sunshine.

Thanks to all who came along and continue to make Sunday mornings worth waking up for!

See you all at the next class.

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. :)

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.

• Make sure your hands are positioned directly below your shoulders.


• Ensure your back is engaged by contracting your stomach muscles.


• Do not drop your hips.


• Do not bend your knees, keep the legs straight.


• At the bottom of the pressup, touch, but do not rest your chest or stomach on the floor.


• Try to be dynamic. i.e. Do not rest between each repetition of the set. complete the set without stopping. (This does not relate to speed)

I'll start relatively simple with the wide position. this particular pressup can be very effective if done correctly. Start in the regular pressup position and now move both hands as far out as they will go while still supporting your weight (See photo #1).
Now bend your arms while keeping your back straight and go as far down as possible without collapsing or resting your chest on the floor. (See Photo #2)

Unfortunately these images don't work so well because the grass obscures the bottom position of the pressup.