Physically: Possible hamstring tear, shoulder feels less crap than expected.
Mentally: Well, the glass has never been half full to me; but I apologize nevertheless for the darker undertone.
I guess something is changing. Or has changed. The obvious thing is that I'm getting older.
But getting older can't be the sole reason of how I've been feeling lately.
One of the things that I hear most often when I manage to complete a challenge, is that I'm too hard on myself.
Most people smile, others are almost estatic when they finally stick their precision or commit to a jump they'd been afraid of or finally execute their little flow line perfectly.
Not everybody is instantly happy, it's not uncommon that it takes a couple of seconds before the happiness kicks in.
However, 9 out of 10 times I'll sigh or even look disappointed; even though I just completed a challenge which required a lot of mental and physical effort.
The issue is... well, not the issue, but the difference is that people often only take the result of the challenge into account, while I consider the whole process to be
The amount of time I spent before I commit, the number of interrupted run-ups, the headspace I'm in, the things I get distracted by... Those thing matter to me as much as doing the actual jump.
A couple of weeks ago I did a running armjump which had probably been on my todo list for 10 years. It took me about an hour to commit to the jump. When I finally did it I felt relieved. Not happy. Just relieved it was over. When I got home I started crying.
I don't know whether to describe the state I was in as feeling completely empty or completely full. Too full.
I think parkour has become scarier to me than it used to be. I trust myself less.
Every worst case scenario pops into my mind. Almost every challenge might result in me falling head first on concrete.
I start wondering if it's actually worth it to throw my body at this wall, risking injuries. Risking immediate pain.
That wasn't the main obstacle though while prepping that armjump. The problem was that I was afraid of not doing the jump. Of having to go home without having done it.
Man, I sound sad. The issue is that I let parkour become such a big thing in my life. I, or better said, I let my happiness rely too heavily on it.
I want to do those jumps, those challenges, prove myself that I'm mentally strong enough to overcome those 'irrational' fears that pop into my mind.
All these years I've conditioned myself to be happy when I can train often or tick of challenges and to be sad when I'm injured or don't have the time to train.
I've taken pride in being able to overcome those fears. But what if the day comes that I can't overcome them anylonger?
Only they're not that irrational, those fears. People do fall. I fell again last week. It used to suck when I was 20, but a decade later it sucks a lot more.
I peeled of the bar while going for an easy swing.
I'd like to blame it on my poor eyesight; but if I do that it means I'll have to take it into account every single time I'll try to grab a bar in the future.
So instead I tell myself I rushed it.
They were too many people trying to get a line done in the same small space. I saw a 5 second window and wanted to give it a quick go. That's what happened... I rushed it.
The reason I said getting older can't be the only reason is purely wishful thinking; I simply don't want it to be the only reason because that would mean that I can't do anything about it. And I'm not ready to accept that yet.
Parkour isn't purely fun anymore like it used to be. It's more and more becoming a battle.
That doesn't mean I want to train less. I'm still an addict. And I accept that battle.
But I do fear that it is going to demand more from me. Whatever that means.