Imagine yourself on skis, poised motionless
at the top of a snow-covered hill:
one way or another, you are deeply aware of the
potential of the hill to increase your speed.
In Physics we like to think of this obvious capacity
as the potential for gravity to
increase your kinetic energy.
We can be quantitative about it by going back to the
bottom of the hill and recalling the long trudge uphill
that it took to get to the top: this took a lot of work,
and we know the formula for how much:
in raising your elevation by a height h you did
an amount of work W = m g h ``against gravity''
[where m is your mass, of course].
That work is now somehow ``stored up'' because if you
slip over the edge it will all come back to you in the
form of kinetic energy! What could be more natural
than to think of that ``stored up work'' as
gravitational potential energy
We can then picture a skier in a bowl-shaped valley zipping down the slope to the bottom and then coasting back up to stop at the original height and (after a skillful flip-turn) heading back downhill again . In the absence of friction, this could go on forever: . . . .
The case of the spring is even more compelling, in its way:
if you push in the spring a distance x,
you have done some work
``against the spring.'' If you let go, this work
``comes back at you'' and will accelerate a mass until
all the stored energy has turned into kinetic energy.
Again, it is irresistible to call that ``stored spring energy''
the potential energy of the spring,