Typical Day
Professional Boxer Danny "Hamfist" Fistham wakes up in the king-size bed of his luxury hotel room three seconds before his alarm goes off. As it rings, he springs onto the floor and fires off thirty push-ups. It's what he does every morning, but today is fight day. The routine gets a little more complicated.
After push-ups, Danny does some stretching and light meditation. Then he takes a quick, cold shower, brushes and flosses, and heads down to the buffet. While scarfing down eggs benedict until the hotel staff starts looking for the gang of dogs that destroyed their buffet, Danny tries to keep his mind clear. It's a big fight tonight. Possibly the fight of his career. His opponent's name is Drake Octavius, but he usually just goes by "The Champ." Danny's hoping to put that nickname to rest.
When Danny gets back up to his suite, he hears his phone ringing and fumbles with the key card in a hurry to answer it. He makes it halfway through the sixth ring, and is happy to hear his wife Janelle's beautiful voice.
"And Sandy, stop standing in the litterbox! Jerry! Help your sister wash her feet! Hello?"
"Hey, sweetheart. What's up?" Danny says.
"Not much," answers Janelle. "Thinking of giving the kids up for adoption."
"Hang in there, at least until I get back. That sounds like a family decision."
"Okay, I think they'd be into it though. Anyway, I just called to say hi."
"Thanks, babe. I gotta get to the gym, though."
"Okay. Good luck today, boo. Be careful."
"You worry too much. Bye sugar."
Danny hangs up the phone and lies back in bed. The morning phone call from his family has him in a good mood, but he also has to work to put his wife and children out of his mind. It's very important that he keeps his mind free of distractions, so that he can focus on dodging the skull-crushing punches that will be thrown at him later.
Danny meets his trainer, Gorgeous George Mahaffey, at a local gym they've rented out for the day. George is an ex-prizefighter himself. While Danny is ready to hit the bag and get his pump on, George insists that he first have a schvitz and a rub-down. After a relaxing sauna sesh and massage, Danny is ready to do some serious training, but after just ten minutes in the ring, George puts down his pads.
"What's up?" asks Danny.
George responds by insisting that Danny go back to the hotel and take it easy until fight time. Danny sees the logic in this, and agrees to head back to the room and just re-watch some of those videos of The Champ to get mentally ready.
"No," replies George. He advises Danny that thinking about it too much will just get him psyched out. Danny knows this is true, and so he goes home and watches the director's cut of Scarface. By the time he is through with it, and the nachos supremo grande he ordered from room service, it is time to head to the ring.
Danny's mind is miles away right now. He likes imagining this guy meditating. (Source)
Danny is in a good headspace. His mind is almost blank on the limo ride to the ring, and the screaming fans and flashing cameras as he heads inside are lost in a fog. Danny remains in this meditative state through his second massage of the day, the weigh-in, the photo session, and the walk from his private dressing room to the ring. Here, too, Danny barely experiences the lights and the noise from the crowd as he climbs into his corner.
The Champ strolls over to the opposite side, looking fit as ever. Everything is a blur except for the spot on which Danny is focused—the left side of The Champ's jaw. The ref steps in, and it's time for Danny and The Champ to meet each other in the middle of the ring. The ref says a few unimportant words. Danny bumps gloves with The Champ.
DING.