I met Sophie Friedel at ISPO this year. I soon discovered that we both shared the same philosophy when it came to using skateboards as a way to foster peace. In the spring of this year, Sophie’s book came out. It explores the ways that skateboarding can help people escape the cycles of despair in war-torn countries. Much of the book is devoted to her work with Skateistan and it is a fascinating read. There was one chapter that featured her experiences with the downhill community – I knew right away that it was something to share with our readership. The Art of Living Sideways is published by Springer Publishing and is available on Amazon.com – Michael Brooke
Speed will set you free. Speed is the crack between sketch and style. Catch it and then hang on for the glide. With speed, nothing is impossible. (Brannon in Borden, 2001:107).
I rode into the deep mystery of skateboarding by accident in 2009 during the Kozakov Challenge in the Czech Republic, which is now home to the World Championship.
The racetrack then was a freshly paved 3 km long mountain road with several bends and corners where boarders are able to achieve an approximate speed of 80-105 kph (IDF, 2013). It was during one of the qualifying time runs, where I had a kind of epiphany, an experience that took my understanding of skateboarding to a new level and broadened my horizon of awareness. Below I attempt to express this humbling experience in words, but I would like to remind the reader that it is a slippery thing to capture the magnificent feelings of skateboarding in words. Those feelings appear to be like art, such as the aura of paintings by Marc Chagall, the bodily experiences are difficult to render in language — they are best experienced to appreciate.
Speed will set you free. Speed is the crack between sketch and style. Catch it and then hang on for the glide. With speed, nothing is impossible. (Brannon in Borden, 2001:107). I rode into the deep mystery of skateboarding by accident in 2009 during the Kozakov Challenge in the Czech Republic, which is now home to the World Championship. The racetrack then was a freshly paved 3 km long mountain road with several bends and c
orners where boarders are able to achieve an approximate speed of 80-105 kph (IDF, 2013). It was during one of the qualifying time runs, where I had a kind of epiphany, an experience that took my understanding of skateboarding to a new level and broadened my horizon of awareness. Below I attempt to express this humbling experience in words, but I would like to remind the reader that it is a slippery thing to capture the magnificent feelings of skateboarding in words. Those feelings appear to be like art, such as the aura of paintings by Marc Chagall, the bodily experiences are difficult to render in language — they are best experienced to appreciate. It is a hot summer day and I am wearing a tight red full body leather suit, a full-face helmet and it is my first major downhill race. I am nervous, thrilled excited and generally in an extreme joyful mood, honored to have met a community of inspirational people from all walks of life. Next to my tent camps a dentist, a carpenter, a postman, a lawyer, an architect, a graphic designer a biologist student, a skateboard shop owner, a warehouse manager, a masseur, a physiotherapist, a fulltime dad and many more boarders from across the globe. Young and old gather despite those labels outside the bubble of the championship, an event that seems to break down barriers between people and push aside the social conventions and norms. The only thing that counts now is ‘riding’.
It is a competitive race, and at the same time there is a communal spirit that unites us to enjoy the ride in the moment rather then competing for the podium. It is about having fun and improving our riding tactic, style and flow. We are stretching our bodies, focusing the mind and exchanging strategies and technical bits and bobs. There is bliss in the air, people are beaming with energy, excited, happy, relaxed, flowing and yet most are structured enough to make it to the racetrack
on time. The vibes of the event are extraordinaire.
It is now my time run. I am ‘in tuck’ (a position on my board that gives the best possible aerodynamic stance). My back leg is tucked tight in the curve of my front knee, my back foot heel is somewhat in the air and most of my bodily weight is on the front leg. My spine is bent at the hip, laying straight with my chest slightly propped on my front leg. I am flying down the straight bit of road just before the last corner. I am hot, my breath steams up my slightly scratched visor and the environment around me rushes passed.
Fast, fast fast fast fast like, as I am sitting on one of Germany’s Inter City Express speed trains. I have the entire road for myself and I am flying! It feels like the fastest I ever been (later on the timer, I learn it was 83.5 kph). I know that the faster I am going, the slower I have to act and I am careful to adjust my body slightly. Immediately I notice the front trucks wobbling so I make sure to stay still, and in full body tension. My position is not perfect, but I have a feeling that I am too fast to move my body parts. I surrender to whatever happens, but intuitively trusting that I will ride through the upcoming last corner. The speed wobbles stop, my heart is open and it feels as if the wind, despite my leather, manages to blow through all my pores. Never before did my board carry me so fast yet time appears to stand still for a moment.
I am in a paradoxical way feeling a sense of joyful silence, extreme stoke and a sense of the possible destruction inherent to my activity in case it goes not as planned. I am on the edge of my comfort zone for a minute. I am feeling an extreme rush of luck and appreciation that I can go so fast and an in
toxicating lust for life rushes through my cells. My mind is focused, my muscle tense and I ride through the last corner, across the finish line and I am in a passionate overflow of all sorts of feelings. Bucket loads of endorphins spread across my entire body and I feel sensual, sexy, honored and totally alive in the present moment with a glow of energy that radiates through the group of skateboarding bodies.
The above moment happened within seconds, yet it felt like an eternity and the smile on my face did not vanish for days. I was on a natural high and felt like drifting through life. I was no longer an individual skateboarder but dissolved in an intense feeling of ‘stoke’. It might have been what Abraham Maslow calls a “peak experience” (Maslow, 1961). Such an experience, according to Maslow (1970:164) includes: “feelings of limitless horizons opening up to the vision, the feeling of being. Simultaneously more powerful and also more helpless than one ever was before, the feeling of great ecstasy and wonder and awe, the loss of placing in time and space.” He found that people reported themselves to be ‘lucky’ after having experienced such moments and that such experiences result in an increase of empathy, self-determination, creativity and free will — all recurring themes among skateboarding bodies (O’Connor, forthcoming). Maslow understands those experiences as moments in our life that come and go but resemble absolute wholeness.