Whenever you're looking at new ways to get in shape, first you
Whenever you're looking at new ways to get in shape, first you have to decide what you want. Do you want a more muscular look, or do you want to slim down and appear more toned and ripped? I adapt my training and diet with each role I do, depending on the image I want to convey.
When Scott Adkins proclaimed, “Whenever you're looking at new ways to get in shape, first you have to decide what you want. Do you want a more muscular look, or do you want to slim down and appear more toned and ripped? I adapt my training and diet with each role I do, depending on the image I want to convey,” he spoke not merely of the body, but of identity, purpose, and self-mastery. In his words lies a truth the ancients themselves cherished—that before one can change the form, one must first know the aim. For action without intention is a storm without direction, and effort without clarity is strength wasted upon the sands.
To the thinkers of old, this was the essence of Aristotle’s philosophy: that all motion requires a “final cause,” an ultimate purpose. The warrior who lifts his sword without knowing why will tire quickly; the craftsman who chisels without vision will ruin the marble. So too does Adkins remind us that the pursuit of health and shape must be guided by vision. “Do you want a more muscular look,” he asks, “or do you want to slim down?”—for even the discipline of training must bow before the wisdom of intention. It is not the act of exercise that shapes the body, but the clarity with which one chooses the goal.
This union of purpose and practice recalls the spirit of the ancient athletes of Olympia, who sculpted their bodies not for vanity, but for honor. Each knew his role—wrestler, runner, or discus-thrower—and each trained according to that calling. Their diets, regimens, and rituals were not chosen at random but aligned with the image they sought to embody. In them we see the same discipline Adkins describes: the art of adaptation, the wisdom of molding the self not to one rigid form, but to the demands of each moment and purpose.
There is also a deeper teaching here, one that transcends the gym or the stage. The body, as Adkins implies, is the instrument through which the soul expresses itself. To shape it deliberately is not vanity—it is artistry. Just as an actor changes his form to breathe life into a new character, so must we adapt our habits, our disciplines, and even our nourishment to the role we choose to play in life. Whether one seeks strength, grace, endurance, or serenity, the first step is always to decide who one wishes to become. Without that decision, every action is blind motion.
Yet, Adkins’s words also carry humility. He does not claim perfection or permanence, but flexibility. “I adapt my training and diet with each role,” he says, reminding us that the path of mastery is not a straight line but a series of cycles—each requiring renewal, experimentation, and change. The Stoics taught that wisdom lies not in clinging to one form of life, but in learning to adjust to the changing tides of duty and circumstance. Strength, therefore, is not stubbornness—it is adaptability, the ability to shape oneself without losing the core of one’s will.
Consider the example of Bruce Lee, whose philosophy mirrors Adkins’s truth. “Be water, my friend,” Lee said, “adaptable to any container, yet powerful enough to wear down stone.” He trained not for one ideal, but for the needs of each role—both on-screen and in life. His art was not confined to muscle or motion, but in the harmony between purpose and preparation. In the same way, Adkins, an actor and martial artist, embodies this timeless lesson: that mastery of form is inseparable from mastery of intention.
The lesson for all who hear this is clear: before you strive, define; before you sweat, envision. Decide not only how you wish to look, but how you wish to live. Align your body with your purpose, your habits with your dreams. For the one who knows his aim may adapt endlessly and never be lost, while the one who chases effort without meaning will always be adrift.
Thus, remember this truth passed through the ages: the body is clay, but the mind is the sculptor. Shape yourself not by accident, but by design. Train not only for appearance, but for expression—to let your outer form reflect the strength, discipline, and clarity that dwell within. For as Scott Adkins teaches, the path to mastery begins not in movement, but in meaning—and from that meaning, all true transformation flows.
AAdministratorAdministrator
Welcome, honored guests. Please leave a comment, we will respond soon