It’s a warm Monday evening on Guilford’s campus. A soft breeze rustles its way through the quad’s leaves as students meander across the brick paths. Laughter floats from the front porch of Mary Hobbs, where some friends swing serenely. And in the shadows next to the library, a group of students stand clustered around a dark stairwell, peering anxiously into the depths below. Suddenly, a body erupts out of the pit, launching itself over the railing on the side, then over two more before dashing off into the night.

There is a moment’s pause. Then another person follows through the same motions – launch, jump, jump, run – and another, and another.

Welcome to the parkour club, giving Guilford students an excuse to jump and run all over campus since Spring 2008.

What, may, to an innocent onlooker, seem a haphazard scene of inevitable, bone-breaking destruction is actually a well-thought-out lesson in a popular parkour move: scaling a cement wall.

Parkour, also known as “the art of movement,” was founded as a sport in France in the 1990s. Its main aim is to move from one point to another as quickly and efficiently as possible. In practice, this means scaling walls, jumping over and onto railings, and a whole slew of other gravity defying activities.

These parkour moves take teaching and practice – which is precisely why we’re at the stairwell to begin with. Sophomore Maxwell Van Pelt-Diller, the club president, stands at the bottom of the stairs, offering instruction and advice to the members of the club who want to attempt this particular feat.

I say “want to attempt” because no member of the club – or curious attendee – is forced to try any move they aren’t comfortable doing. I, for example, am standing nervously in the shadows, watching these daring feats in awe as nervous butterflies rush and tumble in my stomach.

Max inclines his head towards me, doing his best to appeal to my (tiny and terrified) sense of adventure. “Want to try?”

I hesitate for a second – should I? – but ultimately say no. Not yet. Maybe not ever – but we’ll have to see about that.

So then, if I don’t want to try, why am I even out here to begin with? My interest in parkour began the way it did for many other people – through watching various videos of its practitioners. I never so much as dreamed that I’d attempt any of the moves, but I enjoyed watching them. The people just looked so cool.

According to Max, however, parkour has other aims in addition to simply impressing its fans.

“After practicing parkour for a long period of time, you have a better idea of where you are during times of extreme stress or panic,” said Max. “You learn how to come to terms with dangerous situations.”

Max began the club last spring after getting in trouble for practicing parkour on his own. Realizing there was nothing specifically in the handbook against what he was doing, he went to campus life and was advised to turn his pastime into a club.

Though the club was only officially recognized for about a month in the spring, Max says the campus reaction was – and still is – very positive.

“I love where we are right now,” said Max. “We’re still kind of scattered at the moment, but once I rally all the people from last year together, we’ll have anywhere from 10-15 regular members.”

Whether regular members or one-time attendees, people come to the club for a variety of reasons and with a wide range of previous experience.

“I had no idea what parkour was,” admitted junior Phillip Kennedy. “(but) I saw the booth at the club fair, and I saw the videos, and I thought it was exciting. I did hurdles in high school, so I like running and jumping over things.”

This love for running and jumping seems to be one of the predominant reasons many members join the club.

“(Parkour is) basically stuff I’ve been doing since I was really young,” said sophomore Julian Nipper, the club’s vice president. “I grew up on a farm, so I would climb up the barns and run around. And parkour is great exercise.”

It really is. I realized this just as much when I was running from the library to Dana, trying to keep up with the group, as when Max was explaining the benefits of the sport to the members. These benefits, he strongly emphasizes, are more than just physical.

“The human body is a lot more capable of things than people give it credit for,” said Max. “Parkour can bring that out. It builds confidence in your ability to overcome obstacles – it’s a personal thing.”

Physical obstacles I could see, but I was doubtful if parkour could really play into the mental plane as well. Can a sport that involves jumping over structures actually help boost your confidence?

“Yeah!” exclaims first-year Kalyn Howard when I pose that question. “This makes you feel more comfortable in your body, more able. Things I didn’t think I could do, once I realized I could do them – that made me feel like I had greater potential than I thought.”

“It teaches me how to challenge myself,” explains sophomore Theo Kogod as he disentangles himself from a pole outside Dana. “How’s that saying go? ‘You have to walk before you can run; you have to run before you can fly.’ This is how you learn to fly.”

I mull this over as we dash to our final destination for the evening: the loading dock behind Founder’s hall. I’ve attempted, albeit poorly, both a somersault-like roll and a wall scale, but couldn’t fully execute either. I’m feeling less self-conscious and nervous than I was earlier in the evening, at least – I suppose that’s a start.

“If you try a few times and fail, it’s no big deal,” Julian reminds me. “It’s more for personal gain.”

Well, I’ve already failed a few times tonight, so what’s one more? Standing beside the loading dock, I somehow work up the courage to attempt running and jumping onto the cement structure. I get up it, but barely, and once standing shake my head and stubbornly declare that I can do better.

“Now you’ve got the spirit of parkour!” encourages Julian, laughing.

“Now you see why we do it,” says first-year Meredith Brown.

Why yes. I guess I do.