I’ve never met David nor have I met Adam. The former I know a good deal about through my friendship with Steven Käser, the latter not so much. What I do know is that I’ve never really been a fan of Take Flight because of the way it advertises itself and how they do business. This feeling makes me skeptical of a few things.

Recently, the website DavidBelle.com launched as did a Twitter account carrying DavidBelle’s name. David Jones, a prominent member of the national American community and also a skeptic ran a whois search and found something interesting:

DavidBelle.com is owned by TakeFlightApparel.com – owned by Adam Dunlap. Adam backed himself up in a Facebook log saying:

David choose everything and makes it how he wants it, but he’s not going to do the coding for his own site or webmaster it himself. Would you expect that from Usain Bolt? Michael Jordan? Brad Pitt? Jackie Chan? Eminem? Any high profile actor/celebrity? What about Bruce Lee? Lee has a site (www.BruceLee.com) and he passed away a long time ago. His daughter managers it. I don’t see a problem with that do you? How is it any different with David?

If this were the truth, then I would say that David was had. If you are a prominent world figure, you DO NOT allow your name as a domain name to be in the legal control of another person or entity who you are not sponsored by. Bruce Lee has a website, yes, owned and operated by his own flesh and blood. Jackie Chan’s website is owned by Solon So, the producer of almost every one of Jackie Chan’s films. David Belle is represented by an agent name Vince Fisher. So I went to his website here and attempted to find him linking to his own client’s website. He doesn’t. He has a link for Twitter, but the link is broken.

What relationship does David Belle have with Adam Dunlap? None, besides what he tells us. As a skeptic, I refuse to accept that because Take Flight is not a business I respect. Hopefully, this will continue to get attention until the correct information is released. In the meantime, don’t give shady businessmen your money. Don’t be made a fool of.

Update 10/11 – Thanks to Jean Wainer for the information. Seems like David is behind the project and is working with Adam, who also appeared in the photo.

Four months ago I posted on the Rochester Parkour Gym and how great the opening went. It surpassed my wildest dreams. That day on April 15th, we brought in over 80 people to this tiny hole in the wall and became the first parkour center in New York State.

As wonderful as that was, what followed was not as pleasant. Following that grand opening was a roller coaster of emotions that would have me see some of the highest highs and the lowest of lows. I apologize to anyone who knew me through this Summer. There were days where nothing could drag me down, but there were also days where I would swear I was going to close the gym and give it all up.

As the days and months continue, those latter emotions tend to feel less and less severe and the waves are beginning to feel more calm. We are beginning to achieve a harmony and it serves as an example of what hard work and a heart full of passion can accomplish. The Rochester Parkour Gym was established without any sort of start up loans or grants, and while things would definitely have been easier with them, I am proud to state that in our 4th month of business, we’ve broke even for the first time.

As wonderful as it feels to write a rent check knowing that it was completely sustained by our services, we know that the hard work doesn’t stop here. I want to reach out and say thanks to all the wonderful people that banded together this Summer to take the punches. As traceurs we know that feeling that breeds deep inside us that pushes us to fly when everything else says crawl. You all are prime examples of what it means to live out your passions and lead a life for others. This accomplishment could never have been seen without your dedication and willingness to sacrifice.

Here’s to the months and years ahead, brothers. I couldn’t be more proud to share this with you.

Charles Moreland
Executive Director Rochester Parkour

It has been three months since my last post, My Vision, but I am proud to say I have achieved my goal. Rochester is now the home of New York state’s first dedicated parkour facility. The community has a place that can evolve and change to better serve their needs as well as house them from the troublemaker that is the weather six months of the year.

In addition to this, Rochester Parkour took out no loans to build the facility and is not in any sort of start-up debt – another one of my requirements. The Rochester Parkour Gym was started by college students, with no real savings, for less than $6,000 (AFTER first month’s rent and insurance down-payment), in under three months.

We still have a long ways to go and still have so much more work ahead of us, but I’m damn proud of this gym and I’m damn proud of this community. We don’t have youtube showreels, massive media sponsorships, or super-mario blocks; Instead, we have each other and a community based on positive, strong relationships. These relationships are and will be stronger and more valuable than any video ever could be. Our parkour is not found in the traditional way; our parkour is found in how we treat other people.

I repeated this several times, got up, and just started pacing. I was supposed to be excited, at least, what I was doing was supposedly exciting. I was typing up my course schedule for the new Rochester Parkour gym – kids classes, teen classes, adult beginners, adult intermediates, women’s classes, on and on and on. And yet, the longer I looked at this multi-colored chart, the more stressed and irritated I became. This was wrong. Why? It’s not me.

Maybe it’s just me, but I can’t stand structure. I see the restriction of time as something to rebel against, not conform with, as everything in me says that we as a culture wrongfully attempt to micro-manage way too much of our lives. And yet, I love teaching parkour! I love the look of anxious frustration and the smile of fulfillment. I need that in my life for it to feel complete.

But the teaching I do is different than others. That’s what I realized. I love teaching parkour, on Saturdays, in Manhattan Square Park (or High Falls or wherever in Rochester) with Rochester Parkour. I’ve never had a curriculum because a curriculum is structure. It is an attempt to make the role of teacher easier by allowing the preparation work to happen before the actual class. Sometimes this is useful for safety reasons, but considering our track record over the last 4 years, I’m not worried. Teaching for me is as much parkour as playing tag is: I react based on the student as the man being chased reacts to his pursuer. It’s a push and pull game that is constantly evolving and adapting instantly. It flows like a conversation, something I’ve learned through my time as a personal trainer as something that cannot have predetermined talking points because it feels fake.

This is what makes Rochester Parkour so amazing. There are no students and no instructors there on Saturdays, merely people moving and flowing and creating conversations of multiple forms. If there is structure, you would never know, and I suppose an appropriate critique to what I’m saying is that good structure is one that goes unnoticed.

I was upset not at the structure, but at myself that day for not realizing that I was simply attempting to follow the path already defined by others out there. Primal Fitness has its path as Parkour Visions has theirs, as APEX and Urban Evolution theirs. And while they are physical representations of paths to success, they are not the only paths. I have chosen a different one.

I see these other gyms very much like martial arts studios. Some of them have curriculums, most of them spend significant portions of time teaching classes. This is good because they have followed their community’s culture. It works for them. So when I plug their algorithm into Rochester Parkour, I get an error, because Rochester Parkour does not function like a martial arts studio; we function like a rock climbing gym. The openness is what separates us, and thus, has guided my vision for the new gym.

My vision for the Rochester Parkour gym involves this openness and involves the preservation of everything previously mentioned that makes us great. I do not want the conversations to change because of the new setting, I want them to grow more in-depth because of it.

Rochester Parkour will stay open the way it has been in the past and will function based on our model:

1. Openness
2. Fluid instruction
3. Positive atmosphere
4. Encouraged creativity

The gym will bias open gyms as its main form of teaching, by way of supervisors: members already a part of the community who are not just great athlete’s, but great instructors, who pass on the values of Rochester Parkour. Supervisors will always be in the gym during open hours available for questions, direct guidance (one to one or one to a few instruction), or indirect guidance (instruction by example). Teaching will happen in a flexible fashion as it has been for the past 4 years. This will continue to allow the conversation of movement and instruction to evolve with the creative bursts, rather than the creative bursts coming from the guided or predetermined structure for that moment. Classes will be held, but will be biased to beginners and those looking to stay within the confines of that structure.

The role of the supervisors gives people an added incentive to become great athletes, great instructors, and great community members. I like these people. I WANT these people in the gym and I will find methods to make this so.

Fluidity and flexibility is ultimately what I want. I want to put people in an environment that is open to both beginners and experts. I want a space that will allow you to be creative when you have a spark of intelligence (or silliness). I want a space that teaches play, with the understanding that play is different for everyone. We don’t try to define play, we simply adapt to another person’s understanding of play and guide them there.

I don’t teach fun; I allow fun to be expressed and then mold it before tossing it back into the air and letting it fly. I don’t teach parkour; I allow parkour to be expressed and then shape that understanding keeping in mind the individual. I want an army of individuals, not an army of one.

As I grow, this is a theme that continually comes back at me either through my own training or through my teaching. No matter what it may seem, there is none and will never be a universal model for success – merely the illusion of such.

One reason I love being a trainer so much is this inconsistency – the fact that I can take two exactly similar people, put them on the same program towards their goals, and both will end at a different position. Anecdotally, this is similar in your own training, as one person’s path to success will never be the same as yours. Almost never will there be a situation where you can simply plug yourself in the algorithm and become successful. Along the way, you are called to make your own decisions, your own analyses, and your own challenges.

There is power in this. For instance, this phenomena may be the reason why you shouldn’t chain yourself in debt to obtain your Masters. Interestingly, perhaps it’s why you should. Perhaps you don’t need to have this skill or that skill to become noticed. Perhaps you also don’t need to talk this way, move that way, or think in some other way. And then again, perhaps you do.

Ironically, this article says nothing of substance other than that you are your own vehicle to success. Your path is unique and requires a unique vehicle, unlike any others. You may be able to travel on someone else’s path for a little while, but eventually, you will leave and be faced with hard decisions. Welcome this understanding and let it be a tool for you, not a barrier. Be pleased in your originality and uniqueness.

In the end, don’t just passively follow your own path, actively create it and soon, you will find your own version of success.

Parkour is a cool activity. It is a discipline that can help you unlock certain truths about what is real and what is attainable. At the moment however, parkour is a complete contrast to our typical Western lifestyle. And given the characteristics of this lifestyle, it’s easy to be noticed or given recognition for being a so-called extremist. This is a driving force for most television shows.

This is all to say, “What are your motives?” Why are you here, with me, doing whatever it is we’re doing. If you’re here for recognition, I do not want you. If you’re here to make yourself more impressive, think again. If you’re here, training with me, to challenge yourself and find out to what extent your willpower travels, perhaps you could play.

Limiting yourself in these matters is a restriction on who you are, or what you could be, as a person and as a community member. You have turned yourself into a puppet: an interesting, colorful character, but with someone else’s hand doing the talking.

Stop bullshitting yourself and let your mind expand beyond the confines of your own fabricated world. Try to ascertain what true, lasting change is and what it might look like. Be your own voice and act in a way that is truly and uniquely you. Without this, you are not individual. Vanity can only breathe so long before it withers and backfires.

Prove to yourself that you are beyond this and you will bring true inspiration into another’s life.

This was my response:

Life is a blank canvas and you are the painter. The joy lies in the understanding that you get to decide what is painted.

Every situation is like this and you have a choice in how to respond. Ultimately, this is what parkour is about, learned and solidified by way of running, jumping, climbing, and willfully putting yourself into challenge. It is through this challenge that we develop and in a traceur’s world, challenge is the normal way of life. Be strong to be useful.

My name is Charles Moreland and I am a 23 year old working at the Rochester Institute of Technology. Four years ago, I found myself in college with no future, no direction, and no motivation. It wasn’t until I hit rock-bottom that I realized what truly mattered in life. Today I have three jobs I love (none of which I applied for) and a plethora of hobbies that continually shape and re-define me into who I am with each passing day. Just like Heinlein’s Lazarus Long, love is my passion for life and parkour is what helped me realize that.

For those of you that have not seen the internet sensation, or seen some otherwise crazy people jumping around town, parkour is a movement discipline designed to challenge yourself, physically and mentally, in all aspects of life. I don’t breed strong athlete’s; I’m not that vain. I breed strong community members. My compensation for what I do is the ability to watch someone evolve from an “I could never do this” personality, to an “anything is possible” personality. Strong muscles are useless without a strong personality and an insatiable desire for success.

I started Rochester Parkour in the Fall of 2007 with my roommate Zachary Cohn. We were just kids then and didn’t realize what we were doing. Before we knew it, Rochester Parkour was hosting one of the largest regular, weekly training jams in the nation. We take in anyone and everyone and have never charged a single dime. I teach youngsters how to feel alive again; I show them joy, through movement, that they cannot find in any video game. And through this joy, I get the added benefit of preventing yet another child from falling prey to weakness, disease, and illness. I show the elderly how to be children again, not just physically, but mentally. I teach young-adults, smack-dab in a world of complexity, simplicity and self-control.

My latest brain child is an outreach program to a group of under privileged youth in Rochester, titled “$5 or a 2×4.” Either you bring in $5 to cover the cost of the facility, or bring in a typical 2×4. Every week, I meet again with these kids and we take their 2×4′s and fabricate the very obstacles that they will then use to propel them into positive, life changing, super hero’s. We teach them a practical marketable skill and later show them their most valuable skill: their positive attitude. No amount of money could ever accurately capture the value in this process.

Interestingly, I’m not posting this blog entry because I need or require $1,000. I’m not even sure I’d know what to do with $1,000. I’m mostly posting this entry for Dr. Clyde Hull, an old instructor and friend of mine, whom I hope didn’t take my absence at the RIT taekwondo club personally as I focused all my time and effort into this passion of mine. Since 2007, I have donated hundreds of hours of my time to keep my product, sensational mental fortitude, as cheap and as attainable as unconditionally possible. Every cent taken in is somehow funneled back into the community, and sometimes not just limited to the Rochester Parkour community, but the community at large through our clean up projects and instructional workshops.

Given that, if I were to receive $1,000, I’d continue to funnel it through my already efficient system. Perhaps I could use the money to buy shoes for those members who can’t afford new ones every couple of months (parkour athlete’s have redefined what necessitates a quality shoe). Perhaps I could buy more supplies, fabricate more obstacles, or maybe even rent out my own dedicated facility. Perhaps, since I don’t really need $1,000, I could pass it down to the author of a comment who can write the best essay on why they DON’T need $1,000. Irony is hilarious and money is cheap and immaterial.

If nothing else, I hope that by reading my accounts you can start to ask yourself what you’ve challenged yourself to recently and why that challenge mattered. What is it that you suffer for?

This might be why in professional settings, I need to be cautious about proclaiming I practice parkour. It also might be why I spend a significant chunk of time after proclamation, assuring someone that what I do is completely safe. I may be to blame just as much as everyone else and while I assure you there are examples that negate this, there are many more to confirm it.

I own a nice, HD video recorder, but I don’t upload videos. On my youtube channel, you will find no samplers, training tapes, or showreels. And this is strange to people. They come and ask, “You do all these amazing things. Why don’t you put up a video?” Or, they’ll ask me to appear in one of their videos and will inevitably become upset when I decide against it.

The real reason behind this is that I simply just don’t care. The other reason behind my refusal is that I am a man of standards, and to my knowledge, I do not meet those standards. I am impressed by only a few things that I do or have done in the past and I’ll be hard pressed to ever condense anything into a youtube showreel.

In today’s world, sharing is almost too easy. A beginner can do their first pass, and within minutes, 20 people in different geo-locations will know about it, or be able to “witness” it through the magic of cell phone video. For every good, there is a bad and although the ability to instantly upload your life may be good, it is not without negative externalities. Very rarely do I come across a parkour video that I am impressed with. For the few that are out there, there are 10-20 horrible ones. Social perceptions are independently set by perceived rules and exceptions. By sheer mass and overwhelming volume, bad parkour has asserted itself as the rule (as far as youtube is concerned) and good parkour is the exception.

This reflection is not just my opinion. An n=1 sample size doesn’t have that power. But when a vast majority of non-traceurs express their negative understanding of what it is you do, then you have a powerful problem.

I’m not telling you to not video tape your first kong. I’m not telling you to not make youtube showreels. I’m asking you to think about what standards you have for yourself and what standards you have for the community at large.

Standards: Without them, you have nothing. Without them, there is no discipline and no respect. Without standards, you are left with nothing but foolishness and shame. And there is nothing great about that.

Regardless, it is impossible to completely think out a situation before it happens. Inevitably, you have to make the jump and adapt to whatever new situations are brought your way. Given that, in the past few months I’ve been attempting to make many new changes in my life, my work, and my passion. Some I’m happy with; others, not so much and I’m beginning to realize the mistakes in what I have done.

I’ve done a lot of reflection in the past few months attempting to interpret what factors are at play and they will slowly trickle their way here. I’m not at peace yet with my parkour and what it has become, but I feel like I’m on the right path now.

Sometimes you recognize the move and do it. Sometimes, though, you really wish you hadn’t seen it. It’s like a rock climber noticing that new path up the boulder – you can’t ignore it, and until you accomplish it, it will sit there.

Frustrating as this may be, you should never get yourself down about these instances. One important step in a traceur’s journey is the ability to understand that today is not “that” day. You move on and keep doing what you do.

Inevitably, you will find yourself back at that particular space and it will be that day. This is your opportunity. This is the moment you don’t waste.

Yesterday was my day.

The move has sat there and lingered in my mind for the past year. Since I first saw it, I would return to High Falls and before doing anything, look at it and evaluate myself. If it didn’t feel right, I would continue with what I was doing and not look at it again.

It’s frustrating to find a move that is with-in your capabilities, but given certain contexts, becomes challenging. In this particular instance, the kong to precision – although not far – is “blind.” The wall is above belly height meaning you cannot see the ledge until you have already committed the speed to the kong.

“Am I nervous? Am I focused? Are the circumstances right?” I answer these questions truthfully and depending on the answers, make my move: do it or walk away, unashamed.

Some days you just feel it. Interesting that my day came during night time, when contrast and shadows play tricks with depth perception and cause you to lose focus. But there it was, and I didn’t waste it. I did that kong to precision over ten times that night – some with the security light, some without. No slips. No falls. No misses.

It was that day.

Kong to Precision at High Falls from Charles Moreland on Vimeo.