Another hoists himself to the top of the swing set, where he balances along the beam and back-flips off the end.
A third takes a running start, sprints five yards and runs eight feet up the side of a concrete wall, where he flips and lands on his feet.
This is parkour, an obscure but growing sport that uses gymnastic vaults, flips and other superherolike body movements to navigate obstacles.
The sport was born in France in the late 1980s when then-teen David Belle decided to develop a Spider-Man-style activity.
Thanks largely to the Internet, parkour has taken off in the U.S. during the past decade. There’s an MTV show devoted to the sport and a first-person parkour video game called “Mirror’s Edge.”
It even has built a following in Colorado Springs, like the group that gathered recently to practice on obstacles such as the swing sets, benches, baseball dugouts and playground walls of Cottonwood Creek Park.
For some, parkour is almost like a drug — but one they use to stay out of trouble.
“The more experience you get … the less exhilaration you get, because you know you can do it (a stunt), so there isn’t as much adrenaline,” said 17-year-old Dante Grazioli, a Springs resident. “You have to just keep searching for more.”
Springs-area resident Dan Teel organized the weekend event, which swelled the Colorado Springs parkour scene to three times its usual size. Along with three friends in the Springs, the 17-year-old recently spent a week in Los Angeles with a friend who stars in MTV’s “Ultimate Parkour Challenge” show.
The young men are tapping into an international phenomenon. There are more than 350,000 YouTube videos with the word “parkour” in the title, some garnering tens of millions of views.
About 20 people meet regularly in Denver to practice together, said Will Schultz, a trainer at Apex Movement in Englewood, which offers beginner parkour classes for $155. Traceurs do not know how many people do the sport nationally.
Parkour classes are available at some Colorado Springs centers; Aerials Gymnastics held a children’s parkour class in February and will continue to offer it if there is interest, and ArtSports Gymnastics and Dance rents space to another group that teaches parkour, office workers said.
But don’t expect to see parkour taught in area schools any time soon, said Peggy Vigil, who oversees and approves the physical education curriculum for School District 11.
“If you’re jumping over obstacles and walls and things like that, there’s huge liability risks for our school-age kids,” she said.
The danger doesn’t stop enthusiasts like Justin Oakes, who said he would probably be in jail today if he hadn’t discovered parkour. Instead, the 21-year-old was at Cottonwood Creek Park, to which he drove from Oklahoma City for the weekend meet with fellow traceurs. Oakes had a DUI on his record and had been arrested for burglary before he discovered parkour. Now, he hangs out with fellow traceurs, who are usually practicing their moves.
“You get hooked to it — you can’t stop,” said Oakes. “It keeps you out of trouble, that’s for sure.”
Still, Oakes is a reminder of the dangers of parkour. When he landed wrong after a jump off a chest-high wall, he ended up with a broken hand and kneecap, and needed reconstructive surgery for a broken jaw, shattered chin and sinus cavities, and a broken nose.
But the former baseball player is back at the sport; he couldn’t give it up.
“I’ve got nothing else to do. I don’t know anything else anymore,” Oakes said. “Whenever someone asks you to go do something stupid or something, you’re like, ‘No, I’m gonna go do this, I’m gonna go do parkour.’”
Perhaps because of its Internet roots, the sport seems to attract science-fiction fans and computer programmers such as 24-year-old Andy Tran, who now teaches parkour in Alexandria, Va., and has written an article on the demographics of the sport.
“We always seem to start out as the nerdy kids who never really got much sunlight,” Tran said. “We’re big Internet nerds.”
Devoted fans say parkour is more than a sport. It’s a lifestyle, said Schultz, the trainer in Englewood. He describes it as gaining “parkour eyes” and a new respect for your surroundings.
“As soon as you really start training, you stop looking at things as things, and start looking at them as opportunities to create movement,” he said. “If I’m walking downtown, I’ll cross the street to touch a brick wall I think might be extra grippy. That’s just how it is.”
‘PARKOUR’ DEFINED
Parkour derives its name from “parcours,” French for “route.” The sport’s practitioners are known as traceurs and traceuses, French for “tracers” — people who find a path around obstacles through a landscape.
Original story posted here.