Bruce Lee & The Bullworker

After participating in the same old drinking habits, I became more and more concerned about where my life was heading. I was feeling tired, sluggish and sick. At the ripe old age of eighteen my body was lethargic and drained. My life had hit a complete dead-end and I felt that there was no escape from the drudgery that surrounded me.

My desire to take-up martial arts or any other hobby for that matter just didn't happen, there were simply no facilities or clubs in the town where I lived. I did eventually manage to put into practice what I thought was the next best thing. I came across this small book on Kung Fu, which I discovered in a second-hand bookstore featuring the legendary Bruce Lee. I really believed that I could teach myself some effective self-defence moves from this small paperback manual.

I'd grown-up during the Bruce Lee era and thought that the wave of Kung Fu films that came out during the mid-seventies where the best thing since sliced bread. As a teenager I often mimicked many of those actions that I'd seen on the big screen.  I was certainly inspired by all those weird and wonderful techniques, however nothing impressed me more than the famous 'nunchaku' fight scene performed by Bruce Lee in "Enter The Dragon". This extraordinary piece of martial art magic has never-ever left my mind.

Almost at the same time as buying my beloved Kung Fu book, I also managed to purchase myself a weird contraption called the "Bullworker". If you've haven't ever heard of the Bullwoker, it's basically a machine designed for performing isometric exercises, which you can achieve by compressing both ends together and also by pulling the opposing side cables. It was obviously an impressive piece of sports equipment, which I understand sold nine million  units worldwide.

Every night before going down to my local pub, I would practice a few self-defence moves from my book. I religiously followed these moves step-by-step and thought I could master the art of Kung Fu from my small bedroom. Alongside this I would also spend at least twenty-minutes each night exercising on my apparatus. This regime continued for at least three months and I gradually began to feel a difference in my overall body condition. Despite my good intentions, I soon started to skip a few sessions; as my discipline declined, my Bullworker and my beloved book were eventually left to gather dust on my bedroom floor.

My luck in searching for a martial art class eventually turned a corner. Through my local Youth Centre I’d discovered a small judo club in a neighbouring town. I managed to attend lessons once a week and relied upon the Youth Centre for transport. At first I really enjoyed the classes, I learnt some basic throwing moves and grappling techniques. It wasn't until my third class that things changed. After practising some ground fighting manoeuvres I accidentally got smacked on the bridge of the nose by an opponents elbow. Unfortunately for me that was it... although there was no blood or any physical damage, it really did cause me considerable amount of discomfort and completely dissuaded me from any future training. After only three weeks I came to a conclusion that practising judo really wasn't for me.

It was about five or six months later that I actually discovered another particular form of martial art. I just happened to be attending a New Years Eve gathering when I got chatting to some old friends. I discovered that most of these chaps, who were all in their early twenties had decided to take up this new style of martial art.  They were all ranting and raving about how good it was. I couldn’t believe how I hadn’t heard of this myself. It had a peculiar sounding name and its participants, so I gathered, always wore black uniforms instead of the customary white suits.

As the evening passed and a few drinks later, one of the guy's from the group enthusiastically wanted to show me some of his self-defence techniques that he'd just learnt from his previous lesson. He asked me to grab his wrist very tightly, which I did.  With one swift action he rotated his own hand and applied pressure too my wrist, causing me considerable discomfort. This basic movement literally brought me to my knees, squealing and yelling in pain. I pleaded with him to release the grip, which he thankfully did.

After slowly recuperating from the discomfort, I asked him to explain what he'd just done, only this time a little gentler. The technique totally intrigued me and I asked him if he could teach me to apply the same move. After a couple of attempts, surprisingly enough the technique also worked for me on him. I chuckled a little to myself and felt totally impressed with my own efforts.

After that night I really pestered the older lad's to take me with them to their next class, however because of the severe wintry weather in Britain at the time, it wasn't until several weeks later that I was able to make my first lesson in the traditional Korean Martial Art of Kuk Sool.