The Journey

Start. Middle. Finish. Three distinct phases recognized in all facets of life. Not a one can exist without the presence of the others, and yet all too often I see traceur after traceur fall into the trap of placing all the importance on one particular point: the finish.

As traceurs, we are all after the ability to execute a kong, or a wall climb, a kong to cat, or any of the other thousands of movements we drill day in and day out. Every beginner strives for the feeling of that first successful kong. But once it's attained, on you go to acquire the kong to precision! And on it goes. Make it smoother. Make it bigger. Make a video. Push, push, push.

To follow is a short excerpt from a talk given by a wonderful philosopher named Alan Watts. Here he outlines and illuminates the supreme irony of the modern concept of "success."



The irony of success is not absent in parkour and here is a reminder to everyone who may stumble on this article, never forget that growth is not a product of the finish. The end simply cannot be without having first journeyed.

As you are on your way to that first kong, first wall climb, first kong to cat or precision, whatever it may be, remember that all of these "accomplishments" are a part of the journey, and you should sing and dance along the way. Frustration and failure are inevitably a factor of the journey. Without them, "success" means nothing.

Familiar Peaks

I hate it when you find truth in a cliché.

“You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.” “Youth is wasted on the young.” “Don’t grow up too fast.”

My life seems to have gone about 180 degrees in the last year. From October 2007 to October 2008 I was living. I was teaching martial arts, training in the martial arts, training parkour, and doing performances and traveling because of parkour. I got to go to some amazing places I had never been to before; Chicago, Las Vegas, Hawaii. I was in the best shape of my life. I got to meet and be trained by some amazing people; Bill ‘Superfoot’ Wallace, and the Parkour Generations instructors Kazuma, Forest, Dan, and the Vigroux brothers. I got married to a wonderful woman who supported all of this, even letting me train on our honeymoon in Europe.
Unfortunately, life has its ups and downs and leads us all down different paths. I ended up getting an 8-5 job for various reasons, moving and buying a house, and finally “growing up” as some of my relatives so nicely stated. Needless to say, the time I have for training has been drastically cut short.

Where at one point I felt as though I was progressing, charging forward, ever expanding and improving, now I feel as though I am merely working to maintain. Strangely enough, that is just as exciting to me at this point. Having to work so hard to constantly achieve the same thing, while frustrating at first, afterwards provides the same liberating feeling each time I climb those familiar peaks. I now treasure each true training session, as long and difficult training seems to now be a more rare occurrence; most of my regular ‘training’ has become merely maintaining physical conditioning which rarely involves overcoming the fear and skill barriers that I have yet to rise above. Each instance where I find time to revisit, I walk away thinking “You’re not too old yet. You’re not past the point of no return.” It is a shame however that I did not work harder when I had the time, because if I had, these familiar peaks that I am constantly re-visiting would be a little higher.

Speed Restriction

Recently in my training I've been incorporating a new method that I have found to greatly increase my confidence in a technique and also boost my explosive power. I've been calling it Speed Restriction.

The idea is simple, approach an object that you normally use during your regular training, and force yourself to do the same vault, tic-tac, precision, or wall pass with only two steps.

The other day I approached a wall I usually train on that is about 90% of my max height, and employed this method. Try after try, I would explode my right leg up the wall as hard as I could, yet still fail. Days later, I would try again with the same outcome. Recently, however, I have been able to succeed at this 11 some foot high wall using only two steps.

The ability to do most of your skills and abilities with such a narrow distance opens up many new areas for you and I feel is a very important, and often neglected, aspect of regular parkour training.