#75With apologies to Alan Moore
By Chris | posted on 12 July 2009 | 5 comments
It is May 2006, I am training with Harrow with friends. I watch them do a precision I can't bring myself to do. We all do a running catleap, across an alleyway, by a pub I haven't been to for a year. We laugh at the idea of doing it standing. I spy an archway across a road, high enough that double decker buses can comfortably drive beneath. I joke about wanting to traverse across it, over the road. I don't mean it.
I'm in Norwich. It is July 2008 and I've been teaching for well over a year now. My foot has twisted on the corner of a flowerbed. I've managed to catch the wall I was trying to precision in an arm-jump, but it's obvious that's the end of my training that day. 10 minutes later after some foolish attempts at quadrapedal on the stairs with only one leg, it becomes obvious that that is probably the end of my training for the next week.
It is July 2006. I am trying to do a handstand on a rail in Barcelona. I flip over and land on the edge of the road, but it's at a bad angle and my ankle hurts. 2 and a half years in my future I hold a handstand for a minute for the first time.
It is spring 2007. I am standing in front of a class. I am telling people to rotate their shoulders to my count. One week previous I was rotating my shoulders to Forrest's count.
It is June 2008. I am in Harrow, training with friends. We do a standing cat leap, across an alleyway, by a pub I haven't been to for years. We laugh at the idea of doing it running. On the way home we pass below an arch, and I make a familiar joke. I'm not so sure I'm joking.
The sun is so hot. I'm inspecting a temporary park made for us to teach and demonstrate on. It is August 2007 and I am going to be here for much of the next 9 days. In 2 days time I will be doing another demo, but my stomach will be filled with butterflies. The reassuring presence of another of “my generation” will be gone, and the prospect of doing a demonstration with two second generation practitioners is filling me with dread. 3 days in my future I no longer care who I will be teaching with. I know we'll be fine.
It's March 20th 2009 and I'm in tears of laughter. Blane is laughing so hard he can barely breathe, and a room full of people are glancing at us with suspicion. When one of us stops, the other will set him off again. I have been doing muscle ups for the last 3 years.
May 2009. I am walking through Victoria station. 2 hours in my past I ate a slice of pizza. 5 minutes in my past I am broken, the 37th slice nestling in my belly, unable to watch Gise put away his 40th of the evening.
It is September 2009 and a surgeon is drilling a hole in my left ankle. 3 years in my past I am landing on the edge of a Spanish road.
It is March 20th 2009. I have spent many hours travelling to Rome, and I meet Gise for the first time. In six hours time I will be crying with laughter so hard I fear I may never stop. In 2 months I will be doing press-ups with my new friend after truly heroic amounts of pizza. Sometime between now and then I will be training at Earlsfield with a friend. Making an unexpected stop in Harrow on the way home I decide to see what the arch feels like. I am halfway up before I realise I have decided to climb across. I do it again to be sure I am confident with it.
2 and a half years after I discover parkour, I am in a park, practising my muscle-ups. One week ago, I was in the same park, at the same climbing frame, and I couldn't muscle-up. 3 years in my future I am making noises and faces that should not be seen or heard by most other human beings. I'm doing my 20th muscle-up in a row and it is killing me. Form broke down some time ago, now it's just about getting over the bar.
I am at a barbecue, surrounded by friends. They are giving me weary looks, and wondering exactly what it is that is making me laugh so much. I am 4 months away from lying unconscious in an operating theatre, and 3 years in my past I am making noises and faces that should not be seen or heard by most other human beings. I'm doing my 2nd muscle-up in a row.
It's Sunday 2004! I have gone to Southbank to train. It could be any Sunday. I have arrived at Waterloo shortly before 11, as I have done, and will do, all year.
It is Autumn 2007. I am meeting Johann to check out a new sports centre we'll be starting a new class at. 4 years in my past I am watching Frenchmen doing something I have only seen once before in my life. Someone called Johann Vigroux is on my television screen, jumping across roofs. 18 months in my future Yo is telling me to keep going, just one more, as I make noises and faces that most other human beings should not have to endure.
Labels: Experiences
About the Author : Chris5 Comments:
It is, well, any time of any day of any year - Chris is eating.
Great snapshot of 'the life and times of', mate...
By 
Dan, at
2:22 pm, July 12, 2009
Love this post, well put together!
Its July 2009 I am sitting in the back of your car in a state of pure fear as we speed round the bend while your hands aren't on the wheel. Its july 2009 i am getting into the back of your car thinking there's no way it could be as scary now that Blane is in the front and i can't see the road. Its July 2009 im sitting in the front of your car in a state of pure fear telling myself next time i'll just sit in the back!
By Dominic, at
7:08 am, July 13, 2009
HAHAHA! I loved the post man and reading about your laughing fits has set me off again!!
And well said Dom, but I'm forever calling 'anti-shotgun' from now on.
Good post, Chris. The narrative style vaguely reminds me of a lot of Modernist / Post-Modern stuff I've read for classes. :-P
Also, while on the topic of your early parkour career, how about being in the background of a scene in Jump Britain? I hear some other PK Gen member is in toward the end as well... ;-)
By 
, at
6:26 am, July 14, 2009
Nice post chris! :) never will i forget the day my Home town of Norwich broke you! but don't forget its also the week you found the electric box!
Andeh :x
By , at
10:04 pm, August 10, 2009
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