Even though Bruce Lee passed nearly 40 years ago, his legacy has lived on. One thing I find fascinating is the way people admire the physique of a man who stood five feet, seven inches and weighed 135 pounds. In Western society, our definition of strong is a bulked up, 300 pound linebacker whose bench press exceeds 300 pounds. Yet, martial artists and bodybuilders alike respect Lee’s physical dexterity, power, and speed, as well as the way he revolutionized unarmed combat.
By American guidelines, Bruce was not a physically imposing man, but he was chiseled and in excellent shape. Lee’s shape was tight, compact, and defined even when he was resting. As evidenced by the fact he never entered a body building competition, his muscles were built for function, not glamour. Bruce trained first and foremost for speed and strength which could be converted into power. He worked long and hard to diligently mold his body into superb physical condition. Using largely unknown training techniques, he developed a lethal arsenal comprised of lightening-quick reflexes, astounding flexibility, and a captivating grace.
Power was the essence of Lee’s strength. Although his body weighed only 135 pounds, he could kick a 300-pound punching bag into the ceiling. Through intense study into human physiology and kinesiology, he was able to turn ineffective exercises into useful ones. All his workouts were designed to get specific results. He believed each day brought with it the opportunity to improve ourselves physically and mentally. I have a deep admiration for a man who wanted to learn as much about the mind and the body as possible.
The late Stirling Silliphant (one of Lee’s students) captured Lee’s attitude towards strength and training as well as anyone:
“Bruce had me up to three miles a day, really at a good pace. We’d run the three miles in 21 or 22 minutes. Just under 8 minutes a mile. So this morning, he said to me, “We’re going to go five.” I said, “Bruce, I can’t go five. I’m a helluva lot older than you are, and I can’t do five.” He said, “When we get to three, we’ll shift gears and it’s only two more and you’ll do it.” I said, “Okay, hell, I’ll go for it.” So we get to three, we go into the fourth mile and I’m okay for three or four minutes, and then I really begin to give out. I’m tired, my heart’s pounding, I can’t go any more and so I say to him, “Bruce if I run anymore,”-and we’re still running-”if I run any more I’m liable to have a heart attack and die.” He said, “Then die.” It made me so mad that I went the full five miles. Afterward I went to the shower and then I wanted to talk to him about it. I said, “Why did you say that?” He said, “Because you might as well be dead. Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do, physical or anything else, it’ll spread over into the rest of your life. It’ll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you. A man must constantly exceed his level.”
“There are no limits” is a central principle in Lee’s self-created art and philosophy jeet kune do. In his logo, he placed Chinese characters that read, “Using no way as way, Having no limitation as limitation.” In a letter written, Lee wrote, “Low aim is the worst aim a man has”.
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