No obstacles in these exercises

From the moment you enter, it's obvious that this is not your ordinary gym.

The 2,300-square-foot space, tucked away in a Fremont-area warehouse, is a batch of items plucked from demolition sites or culled from classified ads — vault boxes like those used by gymnasts, broken sections of concrete, salvaged railings and staircases, various "holds" bolted to floors and walls.

On Saturday, about three dozen mostly young men and women leapt from one surface to another like frogs hopping from lily pad to lily pad, struggling to maintain their balance. They ran along low balance beams, flowed through parallel bars.

"This is a monkey house, pretty much," said Tyson Cecka, among a group of people who've spent the last year creating a place to pass along to others their passion for parkour, a playful form of freestyle urban movement.

"We're taking a lot of elements from the outdoors and bringing them inside."

For adherents of French-born parkour — something between a sport, an art and a discipline — every urban railing, stairway and wall offers the potential for childlike adventure.

Its popularity has soared worldwide over the last few years, and Seattle is one of several U.S. cities at its forefront.

Devoted to activity

On Saturday, the scene's local leaders — through their nonprofit organization, Parkour Visions — inaugurated what they said is the first West Coast gym specifically devoted to the activity and one of just a handful in North America.

The gym is part of Parkour Visions' mission to spread enthusiasm for the focused strides and cat-leap gymnastics of parkour.

An underground phenomenon popularized through shared online videos, parkour has been featured in computer video games, TV shows and commercials and films such as "Casino Royale."

Using body as a tool

Parkour is about getting from point A to point B directly and efficiently, using one's body as a tool to reach that goal.

"If you need to get from here to there, and there's something in your way — well, that's what we're training for," said lead instructor Rafe Kelley.

While traceurs — as its practitioners are called — are used to chafes and bruises, caution is at the root of proper parkour practice. High surfaces are not recommended, and emphasis is on body control.

Frenchman David Belle is credited as parkour's founder, having adapted it from his father, a soldier inspired by a philosophy of movement known as parcours du combattant.

He and longtime friend Sebastien Foucan developed what became parkour about a decade ago on and around the urban structures of Lisses, south of Paris.

Diverse group at opening

Saturday's gym opening drew about 40 participants, a diverse group ranging from first-graders to middle-agers.

Some came for novice-level classes, curious about an activity they'd seen on YouTube; others for open sessions more suited to veteran traceurs who'd honed their moves at such local parkour hot spots as Gas Works Park, Freeway Park and the University of Washington campus.

The maturing scene has gone from a scattering of traceurs and occasional classes to an organization whose mission includes reaching out to troubled kids for whom parkour can be a reason to stay fit and free from drugs, self-abuse or other dangerous behavior.

At 20, Cory Bickford is eager to teach others what parkour did for her. Two years ago, she was floundering. Her sense of worthlessness, she said, translated into an overemphasis on body image.

She wanted something to have control over in her life, so she zeroed in on her weight. Her push to overexercise led her to kung fu, a personal trainer — and eventually, a parkour workshop.

"That was the class that stuck with me," said Bickford.

Fellow traceuse Janine Cundy, 21, who started Parkour Visions' fledgling outreach efforts, said parkour is as much about overcoming mental obstacles as physical ones.

In the post-workshop discussions she leads at social-service agencies such as YouthCare Orion Center, she urges young people to work through their issues using physical activity rather than harmful substances.

Apply to real-life situations

As confidence grows, traceurs learn to apply it to real-life situations. If you can vault a railing, the idea goes, maybe you can reach goals or confront addictions, too.

"People gain new perspectives by taking on new things," said Orion Center counselor Mark Dailey. "They gain more confidence in their abilities."

During one of Cundy's post-workshop talks, a girl who had been in trouble for prostitution told Cundy she'd never felt so in control of her body.

"That was powerful," Cundy said.

"... Parkour is learning how to be capable. It's the art of 'I can.' "

Marc Ramirez: 206-464-8102 or mramirez@seattletimes.com