Person: Excuse me, are you going to do anything on that wall?
Me: I'm just- I don't- Not really- I'm, like, just looking at it right now, trying to find out what kind of ... how to do it. What sort of angle I should take when I do ... something, at this wall. And if I should, maybe, use hands? Or feet? On it? I don't- We don't have walls at my other gym, or we do, but they're not part of anyone's routine, ever, they just do ... like, wall stuff. So I guess- No, I'm not going to do anything on this wall, because I don't actually understand the question.
Person: Well I'm going to run up that wall and do a back flip off it.
Me: That sounds good, you should do that. I'm just going to go lean on this pole over here, out of your way.
Other Person: Hey, you doing anything with that pole? I was about to walk straight up it, using a method that I understand, somehow.
Me: That's cool. I was probably just going to go ... sit on a toilet until the gym closes.
Third Person: I'm actually next for the toilet, I'm gonna do handstands on it, maybe flush it with my delts or whatever.
Me: Cool. Very cool.
I thought it was funny because I've often found myself spinning around like an idiot trying to find somewhere to stand so I won't be in the way. However, a pk instructor I know commented that reading about these experiences make him sad—particularly statements like "a lot of the skills you need for parkour can't really be taught". I agreed with him, but then his comment stuck with me. He's right. It is really sad that someone had this experience. That as traceurs/traceuses we have somehow failed and made parkour seem like this unattainable mystical talent that not everyone can have. And that's just not true.Some of the the article is accurate—people are watching you, there's nowhere to hide, and everything hurts in uniquely humiliating ways. Three of his four reasons. I'll get to the fourth in a moment but first I want to address the first three.
Yes, people are watching you. Some gyms (just like gymnastics centers) have an observation area. And chances are, the other people training are watching you too. But in my experience, they're watching because a) what you're doing is awesome or b) they want to help you do it better or maybe even c) they want to try it too. We can't all be awesome all the time. But if I mess up while people are watching, no one points and laughs or gets bored and walks away. Usually they're laughing with me because I'm laughing at myself or they're making sure I'm alive and can keep training.
Next, there's nowhere to hide (as shown through the excerpt above). This is very true. Sometimes if I want to just take a break, I have no idea where I should sit/stand because I'm probably in the way unless I leave the room entirely. This happens in other sports too. Surfers drop in on each other's waves or don't have patience for the newbie who's been sitting on their board in the line up for the last 30 minutes making friends with the fish instead of riding waves. But advanced traceurs and beginners have equal right to the space and a beginner should never feel like they're in the way. The best part about parkour is you can do it anywhere so yes, you're always in the way but the flip side of that is there's always another way to go.
And then there's the aptly named "Parkour Muscle". His best explanation of why your entire body will hurt after training. I don't have much to say on this other than yes, you will be sore. But I don't see that as a reason to deter anyone from training. If anything, it shows you you're not as fit as you could be.
And finally, the reason that I disagree with: no one can help you. He mentions that unlike in conventional gyms, parkour "equipment" (your surroundings: walls, stairs, railings, etc.) does not have instructions. Because you don't need instructions. Parkour is not supposed to be complicated. It's supposed to be about interacting with your environment and finding the most efficient way to overcome obstacles in your path. You don't need a manual to do that. You just need to be able to move. It may come more naturally to some people. It may take a person three weeks to learn a movement that takes someone else one hour. But I do not believe that there is anyone in the world who flat out cannot do parkour.
Whether you're a dancer, a hockey player, a tuba player, or a painter. A lot of people roll their eyes at me and say well of course you can do parkour, you were a gymnast/cheerleader. Sure, I have strength and flexibility and I have the ability to set goals and learn physical movement. But there are also disadvantages, like the way traceuses absorb their momentum rather than "sticking it" or rebounding the way a gymnast would. A trapeze artist might excel in drills that require upper body strength but struggle when it comes to leg strength. And an adult may struggle with controlling their fears more than a 15-year old. But that doesn't mean they can't overcome it. More than physical background, what matters is mindset, and a willingness to fail. You are not going to walk in the gym and walk out as a ninja. I fall. I get bruises. I get calluses and rips.. and more rips. I try and fail. I try and fail again. But I keep trying. And eventually I make it. And that's the best feeling in the world.
I didn't expect to have so much to say on this but as soon as I started typing, my thoughts started flooding out. Because where I train, community is important. Helping each other and supporting each other is important. And most of all, we believe that anyone can do what we do. That being said, please don't go outside and try to run up your neighbor's wall or roll over the hood of your car. What you should do is find a local training center or certified instructor who can teach you the basics in a safe and encouraging way. And if you're still not convinced, if you're sitting there thinking that's nice, A, but I'm just not in shape/coordinated/badass/etc. enough to do this then please tell me how I can change your mind.
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