Remembering Martial Artist Manny J. Valladares

My friend, fellow martial artist, and longtime training partner Manny J. Valladares died recently. He had been fighting a long, tough battle with cancer, but eventually succumbed to COVID-19.

Manny, Karate Kid.

Manny had been practicing martial arts for about as long as I've been alive. He started practicing Goju-Ryu Karate in Spanish Harlem in the early '70s, eventually earning a 5th degree black belt. From there Manny moved on to Judo, earning a 3rd degree black belt. Manny's stories of training in those rough-and-tumble early days always fascinated me, and clearly influenced his development as a martial artist. He talked about how his Karate dojo would practice all the standard kata and drills, but at the end of the class would put on gloves and start sparring. If it was too hot, they would train on the rooftop. Manny said he quickly learned what parts of Goju-Ryu were effective and which parts were not, and how to differentiate between martial arts practice and actual streetfigthing. This, to me, this is exactly the right mindset for anyone  serious about the self-defense aspect of martial arts, and Manny kept this attitude  throughout his lifelong training.

In fact, it was probably this mindset that led me to meet Manny. I met him when he started training in Kali, Jeet Kune Do, and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu under Burton Richardson in Honolulu. Remember that Manny was already a more than accomplished martial artist, and was no longer a young man. Yet he dove right in, eager to learn new things and hone his formidable skills. And Manny trained hard, often harder than those decades younger than him. More than one eager young buck under-estimated the middle-aged Puerto Rican guy with a bit of a belly and quickly found themselves outclassed.

Manny scores a hit with a rattan stick.

I loved training with Manny. It wasn't just because he was a cool guy with an infectious laugh, which he was. It was also because he was skilled enough and mature enough that we could train and spar really hard without either of us worrying about injuring the other. For example, Manny was one of the very few people I felt comfortable stick sparring with real rattan sticks with. Yeah, we would get a bit bruised and beat up (well, mostly I got bruised and beat up), but we both accepted that as part of pushing yourself, facing your fears, and getting better. 

Sometimes when doing drills in which one person attacks and the other defends, Manny and I would get into trouble because we each kept attacking. We both definitely had an aggressive, not passive fighting style. Yet Manny also excelled at some of the more artistic, intricate aspects of martial arts, such as the dancelike, Kali drills known as Sinawali. We could get pretty fancy going through the partner Sinawali patterns, banging our sticks together and flowing with fluidity. 

When it came to Manny's fighting style, aspects of his Karate training definitely came through. If we were kickboxing, he would stay fairly stationary, not moving his feet very much. You would think you could step in, throw a punch to his face, and step out again. That was often not the case. Manny was incredibly skilled at distancing and moving his head just enough to avoid your punch, and fast enough with his hands to follow up with vicious punches of his own before you've had a chance to retreat. Manny had some of the fastest hands I've ever encountered. I can't help but think of the Wu-Tang Clan lyric, "And I'll be damned if I let any man come to my center, you enter the winter," because Manny kept his centerline so well-protected and those who tried to find a way in suffered the consequences. For a good example of his hand speed and coordination, check out this video of Manny and I practicing the Kali knife drill known as sumbrada:

This didn't just apply to kickboxing. Our main targets in knife and stick sparring are the hands, legs, and head. I hardly ever was able to hit Manny's head. In fact, one day after Manny and I had gone a few rounds with the sticks, a classmate asked me, "Why don't you ever go for Manny's head?" I replied, "You'll see after you two do a round." Sure enough, our fellow classmate did a couple of stick rounds with Manny and every attempt to hit Manny's head went badly.

Ow, my arm!

With his Judo background, it probably goes without saying that Manny easily took to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. I had the honor of being his sparring partner when he took his blue belt test, and Manny definitely tossed me around a bit. On his own he worked on blending BJJ with Judo, creating a very potent personal fighting style. You can watch highlights of Manny's blue belt test here.

Despite the fact that Manny was big and strong and capable of being a very aggressive (in a good way!) sparring partner, he could still train and spar with those who were far smaller, weaker, and inexperienced without letting ego get in the way. Manny wanted to learn, and he wanted his partners to learn, too. If you trained with Manny, you were sure to come out of the experience with more skill and knowledge. Manny eventually earned his instructor certifications in Kali and Jeet Kune Do, adding to his already impressive martial arts resume.

Manny at his home gym.

A few years ago, Manny and his family left Hawaii and moved to Las Vegas, where he started his own JKD Unlimited school and began sharing his expertise with a new batch of students. He never stopped training, never stopped learning, and never stopped teaching. We kept in touch via social media, and I was always happy to see the photos he shared of himself and his students hard at work perfecting their skills.

In this post, I've mostly talked about Manny J. Valladares as a martial artist, because that's how I primarily knew him. He was also a husband, father, grandfather, and entrepreneur, as well as a former Marine and sheriff's deputy. I'll always remember him as one of the best training partners I've ever had and as a man I'm honored to have been able to call "friend."

Rest in peace, Manny....

Back to Swings!

There are so many functional, fun exercises you can do with kettlebells that it can be easy to forget the wonderfulness of the classic two-handed swing. Lately, I've been concentrating on doing lots of swings, specifically 300 per workout, nearly every day.

Can you see why swings are so effective?

I start my workout with five minutes of meditation, followed by some joint mobility work and the Eischens yoga beginner's sequence. Then it's on to swings. I use a 24 kg kettlebell, and alternate between sets of 15 and 35 swings. (Hat tip to Dan John for the rep scheme.) Rest periods between sets us about 30 seconds to a minute. Once I hit 300 swings, I'm done, though I sometimes do a few sets of slow pull-ups if I'm up to it.

Why 300 swings? It seems like a nice, golden mean sort of number. I've done 200 swings in a workout many times before, and wanted something more difficult. On the other hand, going the 500 swings route popularized in various 10,000 swing challenges strikes me as a bit too exhausting, especially since I want to have enough energy to to other activities such as swimming, running, and martial arts. 

I've been doing the 300 swings workout pretty much every day this week before heading to work and I feel great. My entire posterior chain feels activated. I'll probably continue doing this for a few weeks and see how it pans out.

Giving Up the Booze

Zelda doesn't care if I drink Martinis or not.

Nearly six months ago, I essentially stopped drinking alcohol.

It wasn't because I have problems with addiction or dependency; quite the opposite. As I wrote in an earlier post, I've always been a moderate drinker and virtually never drink to excess. No, the reason for giving up alcohol was a health scare my wife had this spring. Something unexpected showed up on her mammogram. We were of course worried it might be cancer, but it turned out to be nothing. However, the doctor did inform my wife that she was at a higher risk for breast cancer thanks to her unusually dense breast tissue. According to the Mayo Clinic, "Women with dense breasts, but no other risk factors for breast cancer, are considered to have a higher risk of breast cancer than average." The Susan G. Komen organization states that "Women with high breast density are 4-5 times more likely to get breast cancer than women with low breast density."

Another risk factor when it comes to women and breast cancer? Drinking alcohol. It's an underreported risk factor but a well-established one. With that in mind, my wife decided to stop drinking alcohol. So did I, more or less (details on the wiggle words to follow). I did so out of solidarity, and because having a glass of wine or a beer in front of my now teetotalling wife does not appeal to me. For the record, she never once asked me to quit drinking.

Shortly after we chose to give up alcohol, I came across an article in Mother Jones magazine going into great detail about the cancer risks of booze for both men and women. A short excerpt:

On 1988, the World Health Organization declared alcohol a Group 1 carcinogen, meaning that it’s been proved to cause cancer. There is no known safe dosage in humans, according to the WHO. Alcohol causes at least seven types of cancer, but it kills more women from breast cancer than from any other. The International Agency for Research on Cancer estimates that for every drink consumed daily, the risk of breast cancer goes up 7 percent.... The research linking alcohol to breast cancer is deadly solid. There’s no controversy here. Alcohol, regardless of whether it’s in Everclear or a vintage Bordeaux, is carcinogenic. More than 100 studies over several decades have reaffirmed the link with consistent results. The National Cancer Institute says alcohol raises breast cancer risk even at low levels. 

The article also states that "researchers estimate that alcohol accounts for 15 percent of US breast cancer cases and deaths—about 35,000 and 6,600 a year, respectively." 

There's still espresso.

The article strongly reinforced our decision regarding alcohol. I highly recommend giving it a read, especially if you are a woman, though if you are a man with a family history of cancer (like me), you should read it as well. Really, everyone should probably read it.

Now, back to those earlier weasle words, about me "more or less" giving up alcohol. Since my wife and I made our decision, I haven't had a drink, nor have I especially wanted one. However, I could see potential circumstances in which I might cheat a little. For example, I'm not going to say I'll never join a friend for a beer ever again. That could happen. But, to be honest, I very rarely find myself in social drinking situations anyway so the little escape route I've provided myself with the phrase "more or less" might prove to be irrelevant.

Finally, though I'll probably change the main photo on this blog at some point, I'm not going to engage in some sort of Stalinesque whitewashing of history and delete any of my older alcohol-related posts. You can still find my thoughts on bargain bourbon, the joys of Campari, and mixing the perfect Martini.

Bong Soo Han on Patience

Research shows that instant gratification is making us perpetually impatient. That is not a good thing. This anecdote about Hapkido master Bong Soo Han from Zen in the Martial Arts by Joe Hyams is a perfect illustration of the value of patience.

Attitudes on Alcohol

More Martinis with cats.

Since it’s that time of year when many people get really, really hammered, I thought I might share a few thoughts about alcohol.

I enjoy the occasional adult beverage. That much should be obvious by the photo at the top of the page of me raising a Martini and saying “Cheers!” to my cat Dobbin as well as the various booze-related posts I’ve written. 

However, I do not enjoy drinking to excess. Even though I’m closing in on 50, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been drunk. I didn’t like it, and I don’t like being around people who are drunk. I have only very rarely even been buzzed. To some extent, I credit my mother. She was a moderate drinker with a rather European attitude towards alcohol, and that reflected in her parenting. When I was a kid, it wasn’t a big deal for her to give me a sip of whatever cocktail she was imbibing or a glass of champagne on New Year’s Eve. Because of this, alcohol never seemed like some mysterious, taboo temptation to me. When I turned 21 and was legally able to buy alcohol, I was happy to have the option but I didn’t go crazy.

Even more Martinis with cats.

Most of the time, if I drink alcohol at all, I mostly just have a glass of wine or a beer with dinner. Once in awhile I might treat myself to a mixed drink. At various times I’ll even put limits on myself, such as only drinking on weekends or abstaining altogether for a period of time. In fact, I’ll probably abstain for a month or two after the holidays have passed. I don’t do this sort of thing because I think I have a drinking problem. Partially I do it for self-discipline and/or fitness goals. Partially I do it to make sure alcohol stays “special.” I don’t want to fall into the habit of always having a glass of wine or always having a beer. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It just isn’t the road I want to go down.

Also, as a martial artist, I find getting drunk runs counter to my motivations for being a martial artist. I train first and foremost to protect myself, my loved ones, and innocent beings. If I’m inebriated, my ability to do that diminishes greatly. Besides, one of the key elements of self-defense is awareness of your surroundings. That awareness goes out the window when you’re drunk. It’s also worth noting that alcohol is a factor in about 40 percent of violent crimes committed in the U.S. On college campuses, a whopping 95 percent of all violent crimes involve the use of alcohol by the assailant, victim, or both.

Alcohol itself is not a bad thing. Our relationship with it can be. 

More on Meditation: Three Ways Meditating Has Improved My Life

A little over a year ago I wrote a post about Self-Hypnosis and Zen Breathing which touched on meditation.

Since then, I've become way more disciplined in my meditation practice. While I'm still not super hardcore about it, pretty much every morning I meditate for 10 minutes and go through 10 minutes of yoga poses before moving on to make workout. If pressed for time, I'll skip the workout but not the mediation and yoga. Those 20 minutes just have such a profoundly positive impact on the rest of my day.

My way of meditating is pretty basic. I sit cross-legged on a couple of my cushions on the floor, relax, rest my hands on my knees, and close my eyes. My spine is straight, and my tongue is lightly touching the area behind my two front teeth. While I used to use a  simple "one-two" method for my breathing—Inhale ("one"), exhale ("two"), repeat—I now tend to favor the method advocated by Robert Aitken (1917 - 2010), founder of the Diamond Sangha, a Zen Buddhist society he founded in Honolulu. He advocated the counting of breaths to people who were new to sesshin, or intense Zen meditation:

If you are counting your breaths, then count "one" for the inhalation, "two" for the exhalation and so on but let the count do the counting.  In other words, let that point one count one, let that point two count two, let that point three count three and so on up to ten and then repeat.

Inspired by Thích Nhất Hạnh's book Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life, I've started making an effort to smile with every exhalation. As he writes,

Breathing in, I calm my body.
Breathing out, I smile.
Dwelling in the present moment, I know this is a wonderful moment!

I won't go into all the potential benefits of meditating. There are plenty of books and articles about that. Instead, I want to share three of the benefits I've noticed personally.

A Small Life-Lesson at Whole Foods Market

A recent trip to Whole Foods Market taught me a lesson about anger, compassion, reaction, and response.

I was waiting in the express line. There was one line for two registers. While I was waiting, a man cut in front of me as soon as one of the registers became available. I didn't say anything at the time.

However, as I left the store I saw the line-jumper mulling about, looking at his receipt. I stopped and said to him, "You do realize you cut me off in line?" He appeared a bit taken aback, then said "No... I didn't realize." I walked on and went about my business.

Walking home, I was a bit annoyed at the guy. After all, the he didn't even apologize for cutting in line. But after a minute or two, I became annoyed at myself.

Why did I even bother confronting some stranger over something as trivial as jumping line at the market? What did I hope to accomplish? Did I really need or want an apology? Not especially. Was I acting as some sort of retail etiquette vigilante, informing a miscreant of his misdeeds so he would not be a repeat offender? Perhaps I thought I was, but I wasn't. Was I being forgiving and big hearted? Absolutely not. After all, the lines at Whole Foods can be confusing. Chances are the fellow just made an honest mistake.

Worst of all, I was being a bit of a bully, something I strive not to be. Would I have taken similar actions if the line-jumper had been bigger and scarier looking than me? Doubtfully. In fact, I was quite a bit bigger and scarier than the line-jumper, and probably startled him. Why? Because I was irritated and felt the need to express it? Not good enough.

Why Work Out?

It's January, the time of year when many people start working out as part of their New Year's resolutions. But how often do they stop to think about why they want to work out in the first place?

Quite a few people would probably be taken aback by that question, perhaps responding with a vague answer such as "to get in shape." What does that mean, though? A powerlifter and a gymnast, for example, are both "in shape" in very different ways.

Knowing the why you workout is important, because it will determine the how you workout. Individuals need to really think about what they specifically want to accomplish, do their research, and figure out the best way to proceed.

For years, I floundered at fitness, mostly because all I knew is I wanted to "get in shape." I didn't really know what I meant by that, so I just ran around, went to the gym, goofed around with weights and machines, and didn't get anywhere.

What helped me focus was getting serious about my martial arts training. I decided I didn't care about having a six-pack, being able to run a marathon, or benching 300 pounds. I just wanted to be a better fighter. And I don't mean I wanted to get fit like a professional, UFC-level fighter. I simply want to be fit enough to do well when I train or spar with friends and be reasonably prepared in the event of some sort of actual altercation. To accomplish this, I needed to concentrate on endurance, explosiveness, functional strength, and flexibility.

Self-Hypnosis and Zen Breathing

My mom taught me many valuable things (such as standing up for myself, which helped save me from a would-be child molester). One of the the particularly useful skills she taught me when I was a child was self-hypnosis. 

It may sound like I'm about to veer into Derek Flint territory, but there isn't anything particularly weird or mysterious about simple self-hypnosis, at least not the method I use. 

Here are the basics:

1. Lie down or sit comfortably.
2. Close your eyes.
3. Begin concentrating on your toes. Think about them. Then imagine them falling asleep. almost as if they are disconnecting from the rest of your body.
4. Once you are done with your toes, move on to your feet, your legs, etc.

That's it. Often, you are either deeply relaxed or asleep before you ever make it to your face and head.

I've found self-hypnosis particularly useful on nights I couldn't get to sleep and on long airplane trips.

Where did my mom pick up this offbeat skill? I don't really know. She was an accomplished nurse, and accumulated all sorts of medical knowledge over the years. Self-hypnosis was probably just one of those things she picked up.

Zen breathing is sort of a cousin of self-hypnosis. It's also a rather fancy way of simply referring to the practice counting your breaths. 

I was introduced to the concept in the works of Robert Aitken.  Aitken (1917 - 2010) was the master of the Diamond Sangha, a Zen Buddhist society he founded in Honolulu in 1959. He advocated the counting of breaths to people who were new to sesshin, or intense Zen meditation.

Finding Real Life Inspiration from Fictional Heroes: Man on Fire

This book is probably best known as the inspiration for two films: The first made in 1987 starring Scott Glenn, the second in 2004 with Denzel Washington. Alas, I haven't seen the Glenn version, but I did enjoy the latter film, even if I thought the last third or so had some serious story flaws.

Unlike the 2004 movie, the 1981 novel Man on Fire takes place in Italy and around the Mediterranean. One thing in particular I liked about the book is how it describes the hero, Marcus Creasy, getting back into shape after being seriously wounded in a gunfight. He doesn't do anything fancy. Creasy instead retreats to a small island of Gozo in Malta, where he spends his time going on long ocean swims and helping villagers with projects such as building stone walls out of heavy rocks. 

I'm a big fan of ocean swims, especially for active rest days. Sometimes when I'm out there and the currents feel especially strong, I think of Creasy's hard swims and it helps to motivate me to keep going.

A beach in Gozo.

The novel Man on Fire is also rich in characterization. You learn quite a bit about the characters, and Creasy in particular is given a good back story. The sense of place is also strong. After reading the book, you might very well want to take a trip to Italy and Gozo.

Actually,  a fair number of Japanese travelers have made the trip to Gozo specifically because of the Creasy collection. In an interview on an excellent A.J. Quinnell fansite, Quinnell said

The Japanese connect to Creasy. They see him as a 'Ronin' - a disgraced Samurai warrior who spends his time trying to redeem himself by doing good deeds. 

Quinnell with some of his Japanese fans.

Incidentally, Man on Fire is the first of a series featuring the character of Marcus Creasy. I can't comment on the rest of the books as I haven't read them, though at some point I will.

Finding Real Life Inspiration from Fictional Heroes: Atticus Kodiak

The Atticus Kodiak series by Greg Rucka follows the adventures and (more importantly) transformation of a ex- U.S. Army soldier turned bodyguard.

The first four books of the series are very well-done but fairly straight-forward thrillers. A few things make them standout among the competition.

For one, the characters are interesting and nicely developed, especially Atticus himself. There's a certain melancholy to him that becomes more and more apparent as the series progresses.

Also, I like the fact that Rucka is not afraid to delve into social issues and get political. This sort of thing can be a big turn-off for many readers, but I think it adds depth and substance. Also, I was a Political & Historical Studies major in college so I might be biased. A word of warning: If you are in the Vince Flynn/Brad Thor/Tom Clancy political camp, Greg Rucka might not be for you.

Then there's Rucka's writing style, which is brisk yet atmospheric.

The fifth book in the series, Critical Space,  marks a turning point in the series. While the first four books were essentially bodyguard-based crime novels, from here on the books become something more akin to international thrillers. Many fans were not happy with the changes, but I think the series went from good to great with this book.

While all the Kodiak books are worth reading, this one really stands out from an inspiration standpoint. Atticus Kodiak finds himself on an island in the Caribbean, where he spends months making learning to be one hell of a badass. The chapter in Critical Space detailing his regimen is one of the best of its kind I've ever read. It's sort of like a written version of a training montage from a movie. Essentially, Atticus spends his time strength training (with lots of pull-ups) and practicing martial arts. To aid in balance and recovery, he uses yoga and ballet. (Don't scoff at ballet; it's far more challenging and even dangerous than people realize.) He also goes on long ocean swims. As for diet, Atticus gives up alcohol and caffeine while eating lots of fresh fruit (especially watermelon) and seafood.

By the end of his training, Atticus Finch is essentially a new man. Critical Space is a great example of how a committment to fitness and wellness can lead to something akin to a personal rebirth.

The remaining books in the series, Patriot Acts and Walking Dead, are also great books. I particularly loved Walking Dead, which deals with human trafficking and the sex trade. It's very dark and gripping, and reads sort of like a thinking-man's version of the Liam Neeson film Taken.

Finding Real Life Inspiration from Fictional Heroes

I admit it: I have some geekly fanboy tendencies, with a real passion is for well-done crime and thriller stuff, especially if there is an espionage element involved.

I'm not alone. We spend countless dollars on action films and thriller novels. But here's the question: What do we get out of them besides entertainment?

Personally, I find fictional heroes to be good sources of inspiration. By serving as larger-than-life role models, they help me to focus on what aspects of the characters I like and want to in some way emulate.

Some people may dismiss looking to action heroes for personal inspiration hopelessly pathetic and dorky. These naysayers are all too willing to say "Who do you think you are? You'll never be like [fill-in the blank]." And I will partially concede their point: You never will be just like your favorite fictional character. (Nor should you want to be; you are you!) But how about if you were just a little bit like your favorite fictional character?

On Being Gentle...

In an earlier post, I wrote about not being a bully. This post is about the flip side of that topic. It’s about being gentle.

As I’ve mentioned before, I was raised to be both a gentleman and a gentle man. Based on my memories of childhood, my mom had a head start on the latter of those two.

Even when I was little, I had a pretty gentle nature, even compared to other kids of my age. Please bear in mind that I’m not saying this in a self-congratulatory way. It’s simply an accurate description of my temperament. Consider these examples:

In preschool, I refused to play Red Rover Red Rover. If you are unfamiliar with the game, here are the rules, per Wikipedia:

The game is played between two lines of players, usually around thirty feet apart. The game starts when the first team (usually called the "East" or "West" team, although this does not relate to the actual relative location of the teams) calls out, "Red rover, red rover, send [name of player on opposite team] right over." or "Red Rover, Red Rover, let [name of player of opposing team] come over." or "Red rover, red rover, we call [name of player on opposite team] over."

The immediate goal for the person called is to run to the other line and break the "East" team's chain (formed by the linking of hands). If the person called fails to break the chain, this player joins the "East" team. However, if the player successfully breaks the chain, this player may select either of the two "links" broken by the successful run, and take them to join the "West" team. The "West" team then calls out "Red rover" for a player on the "East" team, and play continues.

Why did I refuse to play? The game seemed too violent and I was concerned that someone might get hurt. None of my classmates nor my teacher shared my concerns, so the game proceeded without me.

Another example... I had quite a collection of toy soldiers when I was a child. My father was heavily into military history and wargaming, so he made sure I had battalions of historically accurate toy troops to play with. Among my collection were a few cavalry units. However, I wouldn’t use these when playing war. Why? I didn’t even want to pretend that the horses were fighting since that would mean pretending they got hurt or killed.

(Some may wonder why I didn’t care about pretending the humans got hurt or killed. I think it’s because I had already figured out on some level that there was something wrong about animals being enlisted to fight human wars, a position I still hold.)

This gentle side did not mean I was (or am) an oversensitive wilting flower. After all, I was learning the basics of swordplay from my father before I was even in first grade. I loved peaceful books such as Winne-the-Pooh and The Wind in the Willows, but also bloodier stuff like The Hobbit and Greek mythology.

Bourne side.

This basic dualism persists to this day. In many ways the same sensitive boy I always have been, enjoying such peaceful habits as listening to classical music, going to art museums, reading, and relaxing with my cats. Yet I also practice pretty brutal martial arts (despite hating violence) and enjoy watching a good action movie once in awhile.

Cat Lady side.

(Regarding the cats/martial arts thing... A friend of mine has referred to me as a cross between Jason Bourne and a Crazy Cat Lady. I can’t argue with that assessment.)

Is this duality paradoxical or inconsistent? I don’t necessarily think so. Take for instance my martial arts training. Despite the fact I am punching people, choking them, and hitting them with a stick two or three times I week, I still think of myself as essentially gentle. How so? Because I don’t do what I do simply for the sake of doing it. Martial arts without both a moral and defense aspect would have no appeal to me whatsoever. As I’ve written before, I train to hurt people because I hate to see people get hurt.

In a way, I feel that my martial arts and fitness training provides a sort of armor for my true sensitive side. It’s a bit hard to explain. Essentially, I feel the freedom to be as gentle as I want to be because I am capable of being NOT gentle if I have to be.

On Not Being A Bully

Philosopher Alan Watts once wrote that what we despise in others is often what we most fear in ourselves.

I despise bullies. I always have. Preying on those weaker than you is contemptible.

So does that mean I fear my own potential to be a bully? Maybe. After all, I am bigger than many people. But if I do have an inner bully, I keep him well in check.

To illustrate, here are a couple of examples...

Bruce Lee’s Top 7 Fundamentals for Getting Your Life in Shape

There's a great post on The Positivity Blog that's perfect for New Year's Day. It's entitled Bruce Lee’s Top 7 Fundamentals for Getting Your Life in Shape.  Here's the list in a nutshell:

1. What are you really thinking about today?“As you think, so shall you become.”
2. Simplify.“It’s not the daily increase but daily decrease. Hack away at the unessential.”“If you spend too much time thinking about a thing, you’ll never get it done.”
3. Learn about yourself in interactions.“To know oneself is to study oneself in action with another person.”
4. Do not divide.“Take no thought of who is right or wrong or who is better than. Be not for or against.”
5. Avoid a dependency on validation from others.“I’m not in this world to live up to your expectations and you’re not in this world to live up to mine.”“Showing off is the fool’s idea of glory."
6. Be proactive.“To hell with circumstances; I create opportunities.”
7. Be you.“Always be yourself, express yourself, have faith in yourself, do not go out and look for a successful personality and duplicate it.”

As a Jeet Kune Do instructor, I of course love this. The above is just a highlight. I highly recommend reading the full post.