The world is a playground for parkour, or freerunner, enthusiasts

His body remained still despite the cold wind, his full weight held up by skinny, bare arms. The scene was an odd one: a teenage boy doing a handstand atop a 10-foot bright red railing at a suburban playground. After about 30 seconds, his body descended in one graceful movement and he was back on the ground, a wide smile across his face.

This feat was followed by a deluge of gravity-defying stunts by Clark Kocourek (a.k.a. “Crazy Clark”), 15, and his cohorts: a flip off a climbing wall, a short run and jump through the horizontal bars of a playground ladder, and a heart-stopping flip off the top of a 15-foot curly slide. Within the context of this relatively quiet suburban sprawl, many see their exploits as mere juvenile hi-jinks, evidenced by the numerous times cops have been summoned to break up their sessions. However, these acrobatics constitute a serious discipline for this group of Omaha teens.

Parkour and freerunning are their sports, and public spaces like this park are their urban (or rural) playground. While most of us see a drab concrete building or a simple loading dock, traceurs, parkour practitioners, look at their surroundings with fresh, eager eyes. As Ben Leahy, 18, explains, “every building or park is a new possibility. It’s like, ‘what can I do with this?’”

Where an average person considers a wall an obstacle, a traceur or traceuse, the female equivalent, views it as an opportunity to employ his or her skills. The way these Omaha teens experience their surroundings with an almost childlike wonder is fascinating – and refreshing. Most of us become so familiar with our surrounding that we don’t even notice them. These young traceurs are not only acutely aware of their environment, they integrate common objects and spaces into their routines, performing amazing and beautiful feats of motion with what lies in their path. The simplicity of the sport is part of its allure. Nate Grantham, 15, offers this insight, “I can practice parkour every day, anywhere, anytime. It’s kind of like a free present given to you. The present is the world…our playground.”

So what exactly is parkour? Jorden Otto, 17, offers this definition: “Parkour is about going from A to B the swiftest way possible, but not the same way as anyone else.” He’s right about that second part. Not many people would fling themselves over benches and bushes to get to their destination. Sure, you could take the stairs, but why not vault over them instead?

Founder, David Belle, describes it as, “an activity with the aim of moving from one point to another as efficiently and quickly as possible, using principally the abilities of the human body.” Belle developed the art as a teenager in Lisses, France. He is clear about the art’s objective of clearing obstacles as rapidly and naturally as possible, especially when escaping danger or helping others. Belle and some other parkour enthusiasts are strict about the fact that motion that is not efficient or useful cannot be considered parkour.

Sébastien Foucan, childhood pal of Belle, found this definition of parkour limiting, so he founded the offshoot sport of freerunning. While the terms parkour and freerunning are often used interchangeably, there is a difference. Freerunning allows for whatever stylistic flourishes you engage in with your body. It is more focused on the complete freedom of movement and includes such “tricks” as the myriad of flips that have been refined by the Omaha contingent.

Both sports have gained visibility in recent years due to appearances in such films as Casino Royale and Breaking and Entering, and commercials for Nike and Scion. By far the greatest boost to the sports’ visibility and popularity has been the explosion of online video sites.

“I’ve been doing this stuff since I was a kid, I just didn’t know it was a sport until I was 12 or 13” explains Otto. “Later I saw this video on YouTube from this group in Russia called the Dvinsk clan. They were all teenagers and doing this really cool stuff, and I was like, I have to go out and do this.”
Soon, Jorden hit the streets running, literally. He started practicing at playgrounds and other places with rails and walls to work with. Meanwhile, Kocourek had also seen videos of parkour on the social networking site MySpace and “thought it was a new thing that not a lot of people were doing, something unique that I could be good at.” Clark soon ventured outside to try it, video camera in hand. He shot and edited videos of his feats and posted them on his MySpace site. Jorden heard about Clark and his videos and sought out his Millard West classmate. Soon, they started practicing together, along with recruited friends from Millard West and Millard North. The number of dedicated Omaha traceurs fluctuates, but those I’ve talked to estimate about 15 people with a strong interest, and a smaller number who practice and perform the art regularly.

Jorden has 2 years of past gymnastics experience, and Ben “grew up on a trampoline,” but both make it clear that the only way to learn the craft is through plenty of practice. “Painful trial and error,” Jorden clarifies. Jorden tore his ACL last May while attempting a “gainer,” a back flip performed while running forward. Nate has been knocked out three times and cracked his heel, to which he offers this advice, “If you want to try to do a back flip off of something onto concrete that’s higher than ten feet…don’t.” They’ve suffered sprained wrists, twisted ankles, and bruised shins, but, as Ben states, “you just stop thinking about the pain.”

That’s not to say that fear isn’t involved. Jorden admits, “I still have to get over fear. Sometimes I think, if I miss this, my shins could break.” I ask him how he gets over that fear. “I clear my mind in 3 seconds. I just count 1, 2, 3 and then I jump and by then I’m in the air and can’t go back.” Some traceurs need more mental preparation than others. Ben and Jorden describe Clark’s method: “He just does it. He has no conscience.” When I ask Clark if this is true, he simply confers: “I don’t think, I just do.”

The passion these youth have found in the unique sport of parkour is inspiring. Jorden literally bounces with enthusiasm when describing his love for it. “Honestly, it’s the greatest thing. It’s the perfect sport for me. It’s not about competition. There are no set rules or regulations. You can do whatever you want at your own pace. There are no points, no game, no disappointing your teammates. You don’t have to rely on anybody but yourself.”

We live in an increasingly complex world, and to see a group of teens engage in an activity that is starkly simple in both its design and objective is refreshing. Much philosophizing could be done about the joys of forming a real (as opposed to virtual) community around an activity that uses both the body, the mind and the earth, one that is a balancing act between total control and complete freedom. Instead, I will paraphrase a quote I heard from all of the traceurs I talked to that, like parkour itself, sums up the experience succinctly and clearly: “it’s really cool how you feel so free, like you’re flying.”