Hugh Jackedman wakes up at 8:00AM with his stomach already protesting. It takes a lot of calories to build muscle, and that's just what he's been doing—day in and day out. He quickly gets dressed and grabs breakfast in the dining hall, carefully selecting exactly what his body needs: bananas for potassium, water to help replenish fluids, granola for grains and carbs, and yogurt for the protein his body is burning like a trash fire. He stares longingly at the bacon, but doesn't partake. Grease would only slow him down.

The enemy. The salty, delicious enemy. (Source)

After breakfast, Hugh makes his way to the gym for his morning workout. He likes to lift three times a week and have other days dedicated to endurance workouts. Lifting means concentrating on every conceivable part of his body, as every last bit is important for wrestling. Various presses, with the bench being most recognizable, develops his upper body strength, and inclined sit-ups while clutching a fifty-pound weight to his chest help strengthen his core.

Leg presses are just as vital: when locked in a clinch, the legs are often the only things that can move. He will be sore all day tomorrow, but when he heals up, he will be stronger.

Other days, Hugh does a gymnastic workout; instead of weights, he uses his own body. Pull-ups, pushups, squats...all manner of moving himself around. After all, a wrestler is halfway between a gymnast and a bodybuilder, all wrapped up with concrete combat sport experience.

After his anaerobic workout, Hugh finishes the morning with a couple-mile run. He does this regardless of the day. Back in high school, Hugh chose wrestling because he thought it wouldn't involve running. Wrong. His reasoning was that if a wrestler ran, it meant he instantly lost the match. Running away from your problems (read: competitors) is bad, right? Soon, he learned that he needed to running in order to build up the ever-important gas tank: the reserve of energy that would allow him to outlast his rivals on the mat.

Wrestling's one of the most energy-intensive sports out there, and whoever is better-conditioned is far more likely to win the match.

So, here he is. Running. Sigh.

After four laps on the track, Hugh stretches and drinks some water. "God, I hate running," he huffs. But God can't hear him. He is too busy with other stuff and doesn't have time for banter. Exhausted, Hugh leaves practice and goes to class, where he finds it difficult to stay on-task. For some reason, he just can't find his business- and technical-writing class interesting.

Instead, he thinks about his upcoming meet and runs game plans through his head. He knows he has to keep up his GPA if he wants to stay in the game, so he locks in.

Ah, yes. How to style a formal letter of complaint. Riveting.

Back in the day, you just went directly to Mars to complain.

Finally, it's time for lunch, and it's a good thing, too—Hugh is famished. With his head spinning with all the different Times New Roman fonts, he heads to the dining hall. Hugh, as usual, follows his rigorous dietary standards. Eating as much protein as he needs without a bunch of fat is difficult. Especially in college. He sticks to as many skinless chicken breasts as he can comfortably fit on a plate and then rounds it out with rice, fruit, and veggies.

After lunch, he sits through another class and two discussion sections. Boring, boring, and boring. Hugh pulls through, though. He has to. He's a student-athlete.

Then he's off to wrestling practice. Mornings are devoted to building his body. Afternoons are about breaking someone else's. Well, not literally, but wrestling is a combat sport and his goal is to defeat the other man.

Hugh is met at the gym with his coach. He grumbles to himself; he knows exactly what's coming. "Hey there, Hugh. Look, I'm still kinda worried about your defense against keylocks. I don't feel like you quite internalized the lesson, so today we're going to drill your bad habits out of you."

"Mkay, Coach," replies Hugh unenthusiastically. Even with his achy-breaky muscles and his overworked mind, Hugh fights through two hours of practice. By the end of it, he's slightly better than before, which is all he can really ask for.

Hugh meets with some of roommates for dinner. It's a Friday night, so his friends go off to a party afterwards. Hugh returns to his dorm room. Now, he has to do his scholarly duty. He's a student-athlete, not the other way around. As far as Hugh is concerned, there is no way he's going to drop below that 2.5 GPA cut-off.