Bruce Lee had me up to three miles a day, really at a good pace. We’d run the three miles in twenty-one or twenty-two minutes. Just under eight minutes a mile [Note: when running on his own in 1968, Lee would get his time down to six-and-a half minutes per 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 any more,” –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, you know, “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.”
To just sleep in a car like this, with your best friend or boyfriend and not worry because its just you two and tomorrow you’re just going to climb out of bed and into the front of the car where you’ll drive off. Another day on your road trip together, living, laughing, loving.
But then you hear a noise outside. Your friend goes to investigate and never comes back. You wait, and then decide to go looking for them. You grab a torch and climb out and scan the trees with the light.
You hear a dripping noise behind you.
You turn around and see water dripping onto the car, but it’s not raining. You shine the torch onto the water, and realise it’s red. It’s blood. You look up, and there’s your friend, hanging from the tree above, stomach ripped open and hand reaching down, dripping blood.
You go to scream but then something hits you from behind.
You were in the first five minutes of Supernatural.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the two sides of tumblr.
what a lovely turn my photo has taken