For 'parkour' acrobats, the challenges are everywhere

To Eric Moore and Devin Platts, Northeastern University isn't just a college campus. It's a concrete jungle gym.

On a recent Saturday morning, the pair sprinted toward Snell Library, swung over two sets of handrails at the library, hit the ground, scurried up the side of a stairwell, and skipped over another rail. Then they charged down a walkway outside Kariotis Hall, leaped at a wall about 8 feet high, grabbed the ledge, and hoisted themselves up and over it.

Bostonians may be new to the term ''parkourist," but the fledgling breed of urban acrobats can be seen training around Northeastern, at Government Center, and outside the MBTA Alewife stop in Cambridge.

Parkour started in Lisses, France, 15 years ago, when friends Sebastien Foucan and David Belle came up with the sport, which combines running with gymnastics and martial arts moves to scale walls, fences, and roofs. On his website, parkour.com, Foucan describes the sport as a metaphor for life: ''Life is made of obstacles and challenges. To overcome them is to progress."

The name ''parkour" comes from ''parcours d'obstacles," or obstacle course. The idea is to get from point A to point B quickly, by using physical and mental strength to overcome obstacles with uninterrupted, graceful motion. There is no equipment, and the courses are improvised: Parkourists look at everyday things such as stairs, walls, and benches and see opportunities for climbing, jumping, and running. It is not about competition; parkour, like skateboarding or rock climbing, is about challenging yourself.

''A lot of parkour is delving into the philosophy and training your body into doing something that it can't do," says Moore, 25, who began parkouring in his hometown of Rockville, Md., three years ago and now lives in the Symphony Hall neighborhood. ''It's learning what your body can do and [taking] what you do to heart."

Documentary films such as ''Jump London," which showed parkourists performing on London landmarks, have helped fuel the buzz, as have commercials from Toyota and Nike that show people, including one of the sport's founders, performing moves. Sites such as urbanfreeflow.com have become resources for information about the sport.

Parkour even figures in the new James Bond movie, ''Casino Royale" -- Foucan plays a villain in the film, and actor Daniel Craig, who plays 007, has been training with him for the parkour scenes.

While the number of parkourists in the United States is still small, interest has been growing among teens and 20-somethings, particularly in big cities. Because parkourists can practice their sport whenever and wherever they want, alone or with their friends, the scene tends to be fragmented, though enthusiasts meet up via the Internet.

''Boston is massive and has so many places that haven't been explored yet," says Platts, an administrator for NEParkour.com, a new website that has been connecting New England parkourists who want to train together. Platts, who lives in Portland, Maine, took a bus to Boston to train with Moore on a recent Saturday.

Platts says the physical and mental discipline of the training feeds his mind and body. ''Parkour helps me free my mind from troubles and concentrate on just one thing," says Platts, who is also an art major at the University of Southern Maine. ''It reminds me of when I was a child and would run around the playground. Only now the playground is the world."

Dan Adams, 20, of Worcester, has posted video on his website, ductmonkey.com, to showcase some of his parkour jumps -- leaping between the rooftops of dorms, for instance -- at Clark University, where he's a junior. He says it's great exercise and keeps him in shape mentally and physically.

Like other parkourists, Adams recognizes that the sport, like skateboarding, can be dangerous, and he recommends that beginners read websites to understand the risks and then train at the appropriate level. ''A lot of times it is knowing your limits and staying within those," says Adams, who adds that he hasn't been injured while doing his moves. ''It's a chance to use your body in new ways."

If they look as if they are ripping up city property or disturbing the peace, they swear they're not, despite the sneaker smudges they sometimes leave on walls.

''We try to remain very respectful of the property and people in the area," says Platts. ''If the owner or police request we move on, we do so without any engagement. As it is a fairly new sport, others like myself are trying to build up a respect and understanding for outsiders."

On the Northeastern campus, Platts and Moore spent an hour running, jumping, and wall climbing, trailed at a distance by a nonparkouring reporter and photographer who struggled to keep up. During the few pauses in the action, the duo studied ledges and measured distances between benches to gauge whether they could attempt certain moves. Students walked by and shot curious glances.

But Platts and Moore say they don't do it for the attention. What they are trying to do is reach new personal heights.

''After a while, you don't see anything but a flat surface," Moore says after leaping over a balcony at the John and Marcia Curry Student Center and then landing on a grassy area and rolling to the ground. ''You get parkour vision."

Johnny Diaz can be reached at jodiaz@globe.com.