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You used to hear horror stories growing up about kids who dressed up as superheroes and then killed or injured themselves jumping off the garage roof.

I used to be fairly skeptical about those sort of cautionary tales – but my mother always insisted that a) it was quite true, and b) I was not to copy people I see on TV who put themselves in precarious situations – cape or no cape.

There was a TV show on quite late the other night called ‘Jump Britain’ (from the makers of ‘Jump London‘). It looked fairly interesting, so we taped it for Jake.

We thought he’d be fascinated by the running, jumping and general gymnastics of the guys who leap from building to building. It is, after all, interesting stuff [pdf link].

The ‘sport’ is called ‘Parkour‘ or ‘Free-Running‘. It’s a bit like extreme skateboarding, only without skateboards. Naturally, the parkour aficianados hate the analogy. It’s a philosophy, a martial art and an expression of the inner self. Apparently.

Of course, Jake liked the programme in much the same way that those kids who jumped off their garage roofs liked Batman.

He needed to try it for himself.

There’s a page of the basics, which apparently is sufficient preparation for jumping over and around urban obstacles at considerable speed (and height) without any safety gear whatsoever.

Only natural for a 12 year-old. Impressionable. Energetic. Indestructible. Invincible.

“Dad – I NEED you to do it with me.”

Naturally.

You can, of course, guess which of us has grazes on his hands, sore knees and the feeling that he’s going to be very stiff when he goes to work in the morning. Seriously – 37 years old, and I have grazes from playing outside.

What worries me is that Jake’s enthusiasm for the sport hasn’t waned at all despite discovering that it’s not nearly quite so easy as the professionals make it look.

“Dad – tomorrow, let’s practice jumping off walls and landing in a roll…”

I’m expecting a week of aches and sprains. Possibly much worse.

I think I liked it better when he discovered chess.

He can beat me 2 games out of 3, but intellectual humiliation beats physical injury, wouldn’t you say?

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When I wasn’t leaping from bus shelters, I listened to:

18. Lou Donaldson – Mr. Shing-a-ling Blue Note (1967)

19. Steely Dan – Gaucho Geffen (1980)