Typical Day
Bruce Roundhouse spends much of each day training, and today is no different. He watches the sun come up at 5:25AM while on his morning six-mile run. As it rises slowly over the mountains, he pushes himself just a little bit more up the next hill. Feeling like he beat the sun is all part of psyching himself up for the day.
After some deep stretching and some deeper meditation—focus is half the battle—he throws everything he needs for the day in a bag and heads to the gym at 6:30AM. On his way out the door he grabs a quick breakfast, consisting of a half-dozen raw eggs* and a raspberry acai energy drink.
*Shmoop doesn't recommend doing this. Then again, Shmoop doesn't really recommend doing any of this, so you're probably not going to listen to us anyway.
Bruce throws his bag into a gym locker and hits the floor. He does an hour of strength training until 7:30AM, making sure to absolutely wail on his pecs (or whatever gym rats call "a vigorous chest workout" these days). Today is chest and back day, and since those are central to his fighting style, he makes sure he's as strong and fast as humanly possible.
After said pectoral wailing, Bruce takes a break for a couple of hours to rest his muscles. He heads to the gym office to meet with his manager Broderick, who also conveniently owns the gym.
Broderick's on the phone, trying to get his top fighter a match with another up-and-coming brawler who just recently lost a few pounds and is looking to make a name in Bruce's weight class. Apparently this guy was finally able to kick his nagging donut habit.
Date set and phone call over, Bruce asks Broderick a couple of tax-related questions he's been having lately. For example, can he write off the (large, expensive) hunks of raw meat he's been using as punching bags? Can he also write them off as a business meal when he cooks and eats them later? What about when he rented The Fighter last weekend—can he claim it for "educational purposes"?
Bruce's manager isn't a tax guru; he feels comfortable advising his client to just let his accountant handle all that.
After the meeting, Bruce walks around a nearby park to keep the blood moving, crunching on some almonds and washing them down with a protein shake. At 11:00AM, he heads back to the gym to meet up with his sparring partner for today's fighting practice. The two trade jabs for an hour but not at full strength—Bruce has a fight coming up in a couple days, so he has to stay energized, balanced, and intact.
At noon, he breaks for lunch. Bruce heads down to the sandwich shop with a couple of the trainers at the gym, who always come to lunch when he asks. He doesn't know if it's because they like him or if it's because they're too afraid to say no, but he doesn't really care either way—he just really doesn't like eating alone.
After lunch and an hour on the phone with his mother—she wanted to ask how his fighting "hobby" was going (oh, Mom)—Bruce heads back to the gym at 2:00PM for some light cardio work with a jump rope and a balance ball. He watches tapes of his last few fights for inspiration, and occasionally answers emails on his phone.
The gym is kind of like his office, except his business attire is whatever he feels like wearing.
After this final workout, Bruce is done for the day, so it's off to the showers, followed by a tub of ice and a deep-tissue massage—not for pleasure, but rather to keep the muscles as loose and limber and unbreakable as possible.
It would be nice if he could settle into a hyperbaric chamber like Batman or Daredevil or Michael Phelps, but unfortunately he can't quite afford such a luxury—he's a good fighter, but he's not Main Event-caliber yet.
Bruce heads home at 4:00PM for a nice power nap (would he take any other kind?), then hops in his car and heads downtown at 6:00PM. He has a date with a girl who came to his last fight. It's not easy to make a good first impression when you're bleeding in three places, but she didn't seem to mind.
That's a good sign—this one might actually work out. The fighting lifestyle isn't the most relationship-friendly, but at least she knows what she's getting into.