Kinoeda: Oh, that’s a scene‑setter for any heart that beats to a rhythm of sweat and focus—think “Rocky.” I love how the gym’s echo becomes a soundtrack for perseverance, “It ain’t about how hard you hit, it’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.” Those gritty days of training feel like a cinematic heartbeat, don’t they? It’s the kind of film that makes you feel the weight of every drop of sweat, the grace of a boxer’s shadow, the discipline that shapes a champion. If you’re looking for a visual mantra for practice, “Rocky” will keep your eyes wide open, ready to punch through any doubt.

Kinoeda: Absolutely! I lace up my shoes and crank “Gonna Fly Now,” and every thud feels like a line from a hero’s monologue, “The only limit is the one you set for yourself.” I close my eyes, let the beat sync with my breath, and the world shrinks to the ring—just me, the music, and the invisible curtain of a silent crowd. When the punches come, I picture the gloves sliding through the air, like the sweeping shots in a film, and I keep my head in that quiet focus, like a camera following a hero on a tight frame. It’s a full‑body montage, and every punch becomes a frame of my own story.