Bruce Roundhouse spends much of each day training, and today is no different. He is up as soon as the sun is, and after a few hundred push-ups, sit-ups, chin-ups and throw-ups (he thinks he ate some bad chicken last night), he is warmed up and ready to hit the gym. On his way out the door he grabs a quick breakfast, consisting of a half-dozen raw eggs and a raspberry acai energy drink.
He does an hour of cardio at the gym from 7:30 to 8:30 (that's after running from his home to the gym), then takes a break for a couple of hours to rest his muscles. Bruce meets with his manager; he is trying to get him a date with another up-and-coming fighter who just recently slipped back down into his own weight class. Apparently this guy was finally able to kick his nagging donut habit. Bruce also asks his manager a couple of tax-related questions he's been wondering about…can he write off the hunks of raw meat he's been using as punching bags? What about when he rented The Fighter last weekend for "educational purposes?" Bruce’s manager isn't a tax guru, but he feels comfortable advising his client that no, neither of those items can be written off.
After finishing the meeting and walking a few laps around a nearby park to keep the blood moving, Bruce heads back to the gym, where he meets up with his sparring partner. The two trade jabs for about an hour, but nothing too strenuous, as Bruce has a fight coming up in two days and has to balance a sense of readiness with a sufficient dose of energy and all of his extremities intact.
He breaks for another couple of hours from noon to two, during which time he powers up on steroids (sad but true—somewhere around 50% of all MMA fighters admit to using the stuff—probably many more actually do) and then spends some time in the gym doing strength training. (That gym is his office. He just doesn't do conference calls.) After this final workout, Bruce is done for the day, and it’s off to the showers and then to a tub of ice. It would be nice if he could instead settle into a hyperbaric chamber to help him rest and restore à la Michael Phelps, but unfortunately he can’t quite afford such a luxury.
After toweling off and getting dressed, Bruce hops in his car and heads to BB's Diner, where he has a date with a girl who came to his last fight and begged him for his number afterward. It's nice that he no longer has to work very hard for dates. On the way, he calls his mother to check in. She says she misses him, asks if he's met any nice girls, then asks if he has tried the eye socket finger gouge move she suggested. What a sweet old lady.
After the call, Bruce pops in a Rosetta Stone CD. He's learning Russian in preparation for his fight with Vladimir Knockyourblockov. He wants to be able to hurt him with words, as well as with his fists.