After weeks of ogling videos online, last Saturday Terence and I finally went for our first le parkour run. We started outside Te Papa; by the time we got round to Frank Kitts we were already embarrassingly exhausted. We resolved that evening that we would have to start cardio training to have any show of being cool. Turns out you can't be a hardout without being a hardout. At Allan's advice, I went for my first night run tonight.

I headed further up the hill into the suburbs - I want the home stretch to be downhill. I don't know how far I'll get, so I just stick to the cul-de-sacs and bus turn-a-rounds so I'm never too far from home. I've got Maynard in my ears and with every drum fill I punch the air in front of me. It is cold and smells like nothing. The lighting is a disconcerting mix of suburban faux-colonial lamps and overly sensitive security lights. The polystyrene lego double garage houses are dense and mute. I jump recycling bins and touch my toes, clear rubbish bags with full-o-fruits. There's a pretty girl so I leap over the bonnet of her VW. I'm at the top of the hill, track five starts as I turn around. At the T-intersection I surprise myself by turning right - the long way round. I turn right again at the next T-, even though I know this road goes all the way down to the shops uninterrupted. I get my second wind about the same time as my second blister. Track nine starts just before I get to the street where I live so I have to take another detour. The lyrics follow the Fibonacci sequence and he's singing, 'follow the spiral - swing on the spiral'. My mind isn't separated from my body like he says but it's only my first time out.