HIV/AIDS LONG-TERM SURVIVOR * YOUTH EDUCATION * ADVOCACY * ACTIVISM * RESOURCES
Houston, Texas - United States
Exercise - fitness - workout - living strong with hiv/AIDS
It’s Not Vanity—It’s Victory
This isn’t about ego. It’s not about chasing youth or flexing for likes.
This is about inspiration—both the kind I’ve received and the kind I hope to pass on.
In 2021, I was 260 pounds, barely mobile, and barely holding on. My health was in freefall, and my reflection in the mirror looked like a ghost of who I once was. I honestly thought, “Maybe this is just what it looks like in your late 50s with HIV, heart disease, and decades of wear and tear.” After all, my dad died at 59. I was genuinely 'prepared' and had even saved some of my stimulus money for my cremation. But something inside me still had fight. So, with help—my staff, my service dog, and a whole lot of prayer—I got up. Again.
That “again” matters, because I’ve had to do this so many times since my HIV/AIDS diagnosis over 40 years ago. Reinvention. Resurrection. Refusal to give in. And here I am at 61—turning 62 next month—doing leg curls and lifting myself back up, one rep at a time.
I recently met Peter, a brother from across the pond. He’s four years HIV positive, clean from drugs, full of faith, and packing on serious muscle. The guy’s younger than me—sure—but he reminded me what’s possible. That fire’s still in me. I want some again. I respect and admire this guy more than words can say.
And I just said goodbye to my brother and fellow gym beast Dan—a true Alpha Male, but the kind who’ll still pick you up like a ballerina during a hug. True story—he lifted my 175-pound self like I was nothing and grinned while doing it. I told him, “I gotta beef up,” and we both got a good laugh! I used to be 200–215 in my prime—maybe I’ll get close again, who knows? My HIV specialist prefers I don’t gain much more weight, but the doctor also adjusted my testosterone prescription recently. Muscle’s holding steady, and energy is creeping back in. I'm doing bands at home, gym sessions when I can—building back lean body mass because I know how crucial it is for someone living with HIV and multiple chronic conditions.
This is more than muscle. It’s medicine. It’s faith. It’s proof that no matter how many times you fall, you can rise again.
So yeah, this video is me doing leg curls. Might look like nothing to someone scrolling by. But to me? To others who’ve been told they’re “too old,” “too sick,” “too far gone?” It’s a message.
You’re never too far gone to fight for yourself again.
We all need a little inspiration. Peter gave it to me. Dan gave it to me. And if this clip can give it to someone else—just one person—then hell yes, I’ll keep showing up and sharing the journey.
To be continued... 🙏
Never surrender! Never Forget!
MOVE IT OR LOSE IT!
I was dedicated to fitness long before I ever heard the words HIV or AIDS—and I’ve continued to train, move, and fight for my health every step of the way since. For over 42 years living with the virus, I’ve stayed committed to exercising as much as my body and spirit would allow. Some days were harder than others—but movement has always been part of my medicine, my therapy, and my survival. Fitness didn’t just shape my body—it helped save my life.
Exercise and hiv/aids
Functional fitness isn’t about beach muscles—it’s about survival.
Living with HIV for 42 years, I train to move, to lift, to balance, to live fully. From tying my boots to throwing a leg over my motorcycle, this body’s been through hell—but movement keeps it sharp, steady, and strong.
This is fitness with purpose. This is how I fight.
Jim Morris - My Mentor and Hero by Bob Bowers
While having my early morning coffee, I often see a friend from the past, a celebrity, or someone from my Los Angeles days pop up in my news feed. Yesterday, it was an old buddy, a bodybuilder I admired and trained alongside. Seeing his profile, I was elated, but also taken aback by how much time had passed. Twenty-five years will do that.
As I often do when nostalgia strikes, I started searching for others who had been part of my bodybuilding journey. That’s when I came across the name that hit me hardest—Jim Morris. Unlike my other searches, Jim didn’t have a profile to scroll through. Instead, I found an obituary. I believe I saw news of his passing years ago, but reading through everything yesterday hit differently—like I was just now fully processing it. Jim had passed away at the age of 80. As I sat there, memories started flooding back—taking me all the way to 1983, when I was fresh out of the Navy, eager to build my dream physique.
I had just landed in Los Angeles, and within weeks, I was already on the hunt for a gym to help me reach my goals. One afternoon, while in Century City for a job interview, a man approached me and complimented my physique. He asked where I trained, and I told him about Nautilus Plus, a standard franchise gym. We got to talking, and when he offered to take me to lunch, I accepted—truthfully, because I was broke. Over that meal, he listened as I laid out my dreams of becoming a bodybuilder, and he insisted I check out his friend’s gym. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.
At the time, I was living in the same hotel where they filmed Pretty Woman, paying rent weekly with my earnings from the Hamburger Hamlet in Brentwood. The next morning, I hopped a bus from Hollywood to West Hollywood to meet Jim and check out the gym. Walking through that door was like stepping into a shrine of bodybuilding greatness. There on the wall were framed photos of legends—Chris Dickerson, Bob Paris, and others—and right in the mix was Jim Morris himself, proudly showcasing his Mr. America victory. It felt like I had stumbled upon the holy grail of bodybuilding...
🏴☠️ Fitness Tips for People Living with HIV/AIDS
By Bob Bowers, aka One Tough Pirate – 42-year survivor, certified trainer, and forever fighter.
1. Listen to Your Body—But Don’t Baby It
Your body might feel different some days—sluggish, sore, or fatigued—but that doesn’t mean you’re broken. Learn the difference between real pain and resistance. HIV can wear you down, but movement is medicine. On the rough days, walk. On the strong days, own it.
2. Strength Training is Self-Defense
Muscle loss (wasting) was once a silent enemy in the HIV fight. But strength training—free weights, resistance bands, bodyweight work—is armor. Build it. Maintain it. Protect your frame, boost your metabolism, and give your immune system another reason to stick around.
3. Cardio is More Than Calories
Yes, it burns fat—but more importantly, cardio protects your heart, helps manage cholesterol, and lifts your spirit. Whether it’s dancing, biking, hiking, or chasing your dog around the block—get that blood pumping. Aim for 20–30 minutes, 3–5 days a week. Even pirates need stamina.
4. Recovery is Sacred, Not Lazy
Rest isn’t quitting—it’s rebuilding. Your immune system repairs itself when you sleep, hydrate, stretch, and breathe deep. Skipping recovery is like fighting a storm without sails. Use foam rollers, warm baths, naps, or yoga. You’ve earned it.
5. Fuel Like You Mean It
Training on empty is a fast track to burnout. Eat with intention—lean protein, healthy fats, slow carbs, and tons of hydration. Watch sugar spikes and processed junk. You’re not just surviving, you’re training to live. Feed your fight.
6. Mental Strength is Muscle Too
Mindset matters as much as muscle. Depression, fatigue, anxiety—they all ride shotgun with chronic illness. But movement boosts endorphins and gives your brain the same kind of high it craves from a win. Don’t chase perfection. Chase presence.
7. Know the Meds. Know Your Limits.
Some HIV meds can mess with your endurance, hydration, or muscle function. Don’t ignore the signs—dizziness, cramping, sudden fatigue—adjust accordingly. You’re not weak, you’re wise. Adapt and keep moving forward.
8. Consistency Beats Intensity
You don’t need to go beast mode every time. A 20-minute walk four days a week trumps one heroic gym day followed by a crash. Make it a rhythm. Make it real. One rep, one ride, one breath at a time.
9. Community Heals Faster Than Isolation
Join a class. Invite a friend. Hit a trail. Community makes fitness fun and lifts you on the days your willpower’s stuck in bed. We weren’t meant to fight alone. Sweat is better when it’s shared.
Move it or lose it!
10. And Finally—💥Always check with your doctor before beginning or modifying an exercise routine—especially if you have existing conditions, symptoms, or concerns. What fuels one body may stress another. Clear it first, then crush it.
🏴☠️ The Pirate’s Guide to Functional Fitness After 50
No filters. No fluff. Just the truth from a survivor who’s still got wind in the sails and fire in t
1. Wake Up the Ship Before You Set Sail
Start your day with movement. Not a sprint—just a stretch, a walk, a few shoulder rolls, or joint circles. Wake the bones. Grease the hinges. You’re not “getting old,” you’re just shifting gears. Treat your body like the vessel it is.
2. Train to Live, Not Just to Look Good
We ain’t posing for Instagram—we’re training to carry groceries, climb stairs, ride motorcycles, chase grandkids, or kneel in a garden and get back up unassisted. Think squats, pushups, rows, lunges, planks. Function > Flex.
3. Balance is the New Biceps
You want to avoid a hospital trip? Train your balance like it’s a muscle. One-leg stands. Bosu work. Tai chi. Stair climbs. Because one bad fall can wreck your whole season. A strong core = fewer ER visits. Period.
4. Stretch Like Your Life Depends On It (Because It Does)
Tight hips, stiff spines, seized shoulders? They’re not badges of honor—they’re warnings. Stretch daily. Think mobility, not just flexibility. If you can’t reach behind your back or touch your toes, fix it now before it becomes your new normal.
5. Don’t Skip Leg Day—Or Bone Day
After 50, you’re fighting muscle and bone loss. Weight-bearing movement (yes, even walking) and resistance training are your calcium's best friends. Don’t let gravity win. Fight back with squats, lunges, and real resistance—not just chair yoga.
6. Mind-Muscle Connection is Everything
Forget ego lifting. Focus on form. Feel the muscle work. The older we get, the more intentional we need to be. Controlled reps, clean breathing, zero bullshit. You’re not training to impress—you’re training to last.
7. Recovery Is Sacred. Honor It.
You’re not 25—and that’s a blessing, not a curse. Your recovery must be part of the plan. Active rest, deep sleep, hydration, nutrition. Take your rest days seriously, and your body will return the favor.
8. Fuel Like a Fighter, Not a Teenager
Your metabolism ain’t what it used to be—so quit fueling it like a gas station burrito. Lean protein, colorful veggies, smart carbs, good fats. What you eat today is how you’ll move tomorrow. Make it count.
9. Pain Ain’t Proof You’re Doing it Right
Discomfort builds strength. Pain is a red flag. Know the difference. If something feels wrong, stop. Reassess. Work around—not through—injury. There’s nothing badass about blowing out your knee over a prideful deadlift.
10. Faith, Grit, and Purpose Build the Strongest Core
Why do you move? To stay alive? To stay sharp? To honor the fallen? Define it. Own it. Live it. You’re not just training muscles—you’re keeping the mission alive. And that’s functional as hell.
And as always...
Move it or lose it!
💥 If you’re dealing with chronic illness, existing injuries, or new symptoms—talk to your doctor before starting or changing any fitness routine. You’re worth the check-in. Make sure your path forward is safe, smart, and strong.
Survive!
Fitness instructor Bob Bowers has been exercising while living with HIV/AIDS for the last 42 years.
