Tension and Relaxation: Where Kung Fu Stands Apart

What Kung Fu Can Teach Ultramarathoners (and the Rest of Us)

Tension and Relaxation: Where Kung Fu Comes as Unique

I was listening to a podcast the other day—two ultramarathon runners talking —and out of nowhere, one of them casually mentioned that he trains kung fu. That caught my attention. You could hear the other runner light up with surprise. “Kung fu? Really?” He sounded half intrigued, half enchanted—like he’d just discovered a hidden secret.

They started talking about how useful it actually is. Not just in some abstract, cinematic way, but in a very real, practical sense. The warm-ups, the mobility drills, the body control—it all transfers beautifully into running, especially something as brutal and demanding as ultramarathons.

But what really stuck with me was when they started talking about the concept of tension and relaxation—how kung fu teaches you to move between those two states with awareness and precision. That’s where things got interesting.

Because most of us—whether we’re running, lifting, working behind a laptop, or just going through a stressful day—tend to default into one mode. Either we’re tight and bracing for impact, or we’re floppy and disconnected. But kung fu doesn’t let you get away with that. It teaches you how to use tension when you need it—and more importantly, how to let it go when you don’t.

That’s something I think we all need, regardless of whether we’re fighting, running, or sitting in a meeting.

In kung fu, there’s this beautiful rhythm: a coiled structure one moment, a soft exhale the next. You learn to generate power through structure and precision—but also through looseness. It’s not brute force. It’s a dance between effort and ease. You tighten when it matters, then melt back into softness. And that cycle—tension, release, tension, release—is what gives movement its depth and grace.

I think most of us walk around with too much tension, stuck in “on” mode without knowing how to switch gears. What if we had more control over that? What if we could build strength without clenching everything all the time? What if we could access power and softness—at will?

Maybe that’s what makes kung fu feel so exotic to some people—not the flying kicks or the ancient lineage, but the idea that you can train your nervous system, not just your muscles. That you can practice moving well, not just moving hard.

And maybe that’s something more of us need—not just to run better, fight better, or move better—but to live better.