My husband, Jared, first set foot in a gym just months into our relationship. It wasn’t some grand fitness decision — just curiosity. What would it feel like to work out? That question led us to a small, hole-in-the-wall bakal gym near his university — a Filipino term for a no-frills neighborhood gym, often pieced together with improvised machines, rusted plates, and years of wear and tear. We kept going back anyway.

What started as something casual became a rhythm we carried through his college years, then into our home, and eventually into our marriage. Even during my pregnancy — against popular opinion — I kept showing up alongside him.

But for Jared, it wasn’t just about aesthetics, routine, or even discipline. It was about necessity.

Living with hemophilia means learning early on that your body has limits. Joints can be vulnerable in ways other people don’t have to think about. Injuries don’t always resolve quickly or cleanly. And even with treatment, there’s still a quiet responsibility to take care of your body in a way that reduces risk where possible.

For Jared, the gym became one way of doing that. Not to “fix” his condition, but to support his body so it could carry him through everyday life. Stronger muscles meant more stability around his joints, more control over how he moved, and fewer moments of uncertainty.

Working out wasn’t about pushing past his condition. It was about working with it.

When stopping feels like the easier choice

So when Jared burned his hand earlier this year, it would have been easy — understandable, even — to stop. It would’ve seemed logical to wait until things felt normal again (if they ever would).

But recovery didn’t look like rest. It took the form of occupational therapy sessions that left him screaming and writhing in pain behind closed doors. The goal was to make the burned skin flexible again, reduce contractures, flatten keloids, and restore as much movement as possible. It wasn’t a process anyone would describe as gentle.

In many ways, that alone was already more demanding than any workout he’d done before.

And when he was discharged from the hospital in January, the effects of disuse were hard to ignore. His right wrist — normally thick and strong — had visibly shrunken. The muscle loss was immediate, almost startling.

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So he started small. Basic movements with 3-pound dumbbells. In those early days, even holding the weight was a struggle. His grip strength was virtually nonexistent. But he kept going.

Nearly five months later, things look different. He’s back to following full-body workouts on YouTube. His movements are steadier and stronger. And little by little, the strength has come back. These days, he can curl 12-pound dumbbells with his burned and contracted hand — something that would have felt out of reach not too long ago.

Not starting from zero

I’ve realized over time that hemophilia, for Jared, isn’t something that takes him out of the equation. If anything, it demands that he stay in it.

There’s a kind of structure that comes with knowing your body has limits. You pay attention differently. You learn what works and what doesn’t. You don’t always have the luxury of being careless — so you become deliberate instead.

And in that way, movement becomes less about motivation and more about maintenance. Less about aesthetics and more about function.

The burn injury could have interrupted that. In some ways, it did. But it didn’t erase the foundation he had already built. If anything, it made it clearer why that foundation mattered in the first place.

Because when something does go wrong — when there’s an injury, a setback, a moment when your body doesn’t cooperate — you’re not starting from zero. You’re working from something that’s already there.

That doesn’t make it easy. But it does mean he never has to start from nothing.

Note: Hemophilia News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Hemophilia News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to hemophilia.

No offense to all the hearts out there, but the glutes are the body’s engine.

They propel you forward when you walk or run, and come into play during the majority of your daily movements.