DRAGON HEART

God granted to man a heart with might 

much greater than its size.
The gift of vigor, both broad and deep—
gives man the strength to rise.

For none can face a dragon
and not draw upon this well
of power and courage and fortitude
to pound the gates of Hell.

Dragon hunters are a fearsome lot--
limitations they must shun.
They draw a line, and stand toe to toe,
when instinct shouts at them to run.

With broad sword or spear or hacking axe
they wade in with gusto and ire.
Their small scale 'gainst towering foe
helps avoid the dragon’s fire.

Troy Robert Kahaku Justus

Anyone who doesn't believe in love at first sight has never looked upon their own child for the first time...

That is a quote by me, to my wife, as we both gazed upon our little boy for the first time. What a feeling! What a rush! What the heck were we thinking? Adults are parents. Grown ups raise children. We are The JenBob...we're just kids!

Well I can vouch that man knows no more maturing experience than being a parent. For the first two weeks we went every day to the hospital NICU where he had to improve and grow before coming home to us. Every day we went to the hospital to feed and hold him. They gave us classes on infant CPR, childcare, and basically gave us an edge that most natural parents will never get.

Oh yeah-- did I mention that we adopted him? Yes, two awesome people had an awesome baby, and they chose us to raise that child. Now we are parents to this perfect bundle of wisdom. Teach your parents well, Troy Robert Kahaku Justus.

Double Anchovy and Onion

How does a guy know when a girl is interested in him, and not just his steamy good looks? A guy has many tools at his disposal to test the sincerity of his dates. He can be lucky and have a physical defect from birth…like genetic ugliness, or a cowlick that just won’t lie down, or male pattern baldness. He can utilize supposed personality flaws such as talking too much about himself, giving a play-by-play sports highlights of historic cricket matches. He may even resort to dressing down for the date: wearing stripes with plaids and unmatched socks. In some extreme cases, he may have to fall back on more unconventional options. Sometimes a man’s smokin’ hot vibes will overcome any genetic defects, personality foibles, or fashion faux pas.

I believe that to have been my fate. I wanted a girlfriend: a sincere girl with a sweet disposition and electric sensuality…who wanted me not for the smoldering manhood they saw, but for the trembling child housed within. I had no obvious physical drawbacks, and I had the enviable talent of making the most obsolete subjects sound interesting at dinnertime conversation. My fashion sense, though off-beat, could not downplay my obvious physical charms. I needed a new tool for my arsenal of love. I needed a way to screen out the sex kittens and find the woman for me.

Here is how it all came about:

I went on blind dates while I was in high school. My best friend, Andrew, had the fortune of meeting his future wife (Andrea) at a young age. They had heard enough of my drunken diatribes about how I was not fit for female consumption. They were around for most of my early relationship disasters, so they looked to remedy that by setting me up with Andrea’s friends from the school choir.

We lived in a suburb west of Denver. Truthfully, good places to go out in Lakewood were gems: you had to mine for them. The best places to eat and go on dates were closer to downtown. Our favorite dinnertime destination was a small family owned pizza parlor called Frank the Pizza King. Yes, Frank truly was the king of all pizza. So we would pile into Andrew’s big red Buick: Andy and Andie up front, with me and a random date for the evening in backseat, and head out to Frank’s. The ride into the city would give me ample time to know whether or not the girl was for me or not just by the conversation we had (or didn’t have if that was the case.) When we got to Frank’s and ordered our pizzas, I would give the secret prediction on how I saw the night ending…

I would order a double anchovy and onion pizza.

That’s it. Nothing nixed the prospects of a good night kiss like my pizza of choice. Usually, I didn’t want that good night kiss from whoever I had come with in the backseat of the Buick. Once I ordered the pizza BOOM the date took the idea of the kiss off of the bargaining table. In fact with that she would usually retract the concept of either a snuggle, or more mind numbingly dull conversation.

This pizza had a magical quality about it. Not only did it taste good, but it kept me free of any romantic entanglements. The toppings on the pizza kept an aura of sickliness constantly emanating from my mouth, thus insuring another night of abstinence.

They should teach this in schools today, it would contribute to a drop in teen pregnancies I’m sure.

HOLIDAY SPECTACULAR

Ok...this is a rant, but a rated G rant. This rant is suitable for all audiences.

I hate calling this "the holidays." I know that other holidays come along this time of year besides Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. People celebrate Hanuka, Ramadan, Tet, Winter Solstice, Dongzhi Festival, Soyal, Yalda,  Shabe Yaldā, Mōdraniht, Saturnalia, Pancha Ganapati, Dies Natalis, Solis Invicti, Yule: Pagan, Anastasia of Sirmium, Malkh, Boxing Day, Kwanzaa, Saint Stephen's Day, Saint John the Evangelist's Day, Holy Innocents' Day, Saint Sylvester's Day, Watch Night, New Year's Eve, Hogmanay-- yeah, right, GOT IT.

Still, I do not see any corporations in the United States of America granting a day off for anything but Christmas Day and New Year's Day during the so-called holiday season. So, if we must, in our vanilla-watered-down-everyone-is-equal-please-don't-sue-me society, be politically correct and reduce the single most holy day of the year for the majority of living in North and South America, Europe, Australia, Africa, and the isles of the seas into "the holidays"-- then we must be equal. Corporations must now provide paid days off for ALL or these holidays.

Then, and only then, will I be o.k. with calling this time of year the holiday season.

MERRY CHRISTMAS everybody!

DRAGON HEART

The human heart is given might
much greater than its size.
The gift of vigor, both broad and deep,
providing strength enough to rise.

No man ever faces a dragon
and does not drawn upon this well
of power and courage and fortitude
to knock on the gates of Hell.

Dragon hunters are a fearsome lot--
all limitations they must shun.
They draw a line, and stand toe to toe,
when instinct shouts at them to run.

With broad sword or spear or hacking axe
they wade in with gusto and ire.
For a smaller scale 'gainst towering foe
helps avoid the dragon’s fire.

The Twinkie Thief

Box of Twinkies (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In memory of an American icon that died this day, I relate the following (true) account that highlights just what Twinkies mean to me...

I lived in the Dominican Republic, most of the time in the campo (I guess what you would call the countryside or the provinces.) I spent two years there doing the work of the Lord. I taught people the gospel, I served in their fields, I helped clean up after hurricanes and tropical storms, I helped build houses, I taught people to read, and so much more. It was highly rewarding. However, there was very little comfort. I ate beans and rice and drank Coke (or Pepsi) with every meal (my mantra: nothing can live inside of a Coke bottle.) I only had the occasional treat and it was usually a treat made locally and sold on the street.

My favorite treat growing up has always been the Twinkie. I love Twinkies. In all of that island where worked, I never found anything that even came close to that golden sponge-cake filled with cream. I dreamed of Twinkies...I longed for Twinkies-- but the country had no Twinkies for a hungry young man to consume.

By the end of my service as a missionary, I had not eaten a Twinkie for two years. I told my missionary companions about how much I missed Twinkies. Of course it goes without saying that I told  Elder Nelsen of my love for Twinkies and how I missed them. We worked together for a few months in a town called San Geronimo. Elder Nelson went home six months before me …and he promised to send me a box of Twinkies. I understood, though, that once a guy leaves the mission field, it is hard to fulfill such promises. So I was not surprised when I never received a box of Twinkies.

The night before I went home I was back in the capital. One of the missionaries who worked as an assistant to the mission President (Elder West) and I were walking around the town. We had both come out together, and we were leaving on the plane together in the morning. We were good friends, and this night was our last night on the island.

We ran into a bunch of other missionaries who were sitting outside a corner café. Some of them were very new, and I had not yet met them. Elder West introduced me to the other missionaries, and one of them instantly perked up.

“Justus you say? Elder Justus who served in San Geronimo?” he asked as he shook my hand.

“Yeah.” I answered.

“I have to tell you that you received a package a couple of months ago. We had never heard of you, so we opened it. It was a box of Twinkies.” He said. “We were so happy that we ate them all.”

I just stared at him…waiting for his heartfelt apology. It never came. This was a clearly unrepentant missionary boasting to me of his thievery. For those that may not realize it yet, repentance has certain rules and steps to follow:

1. Recognize that you sinned
2. Feel Godly sorrow for your sin
3. Make amends to those that were wronged by your sin
4. Promise to never repeat that sin again

We went door to door, house to house, every day teaching this to people. This man knew that he sinned….and that is where it ended. He never felt bad about stealing from me. He never even apologized. His repentance was incomplete. He risked his immortal soul-- over Twinkies.

“So that’s it?” I asked, “No apology or anything?”

“No, I’m not even sorry—they were so good.” he said laughing as he walked away.

One day that man, and those who also ate my Twinkies, will stand before God to be judged in this life. I work every day to forgive them. It really hurt me that they would steal from me like that and then go away and teach others the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Hypocrites! At that judgment day, unless I hear from them, I will stand as a witness to their hypocrisy and thievery. My testimony will thrust them down to Hell.

Now the company that makes Twinkies (Hostess) is going out of business. Those men will never have the opportunity to fully repent. Without a Twinkie in the world, they cannot make a full restitution. How can I properly forgive them without savoring one more Twinkie. I never knew that my last Twinkie would be my LAST Twinkie.

That is the story of the Twinkie thief. I work every day to forgive them of their sin against me, a fellow servant of God. Why would you steal a man's Twinkies? Why?

RIP TWINKIES

1930 - 2012

Words With Strangers

As I have delved deeper into the mindless shallows of Facebook, of course I have become enthralled with the games that I can play. I have farmed in three different communities, managed my own café, settled the frontier, lived the cosmopolitan life in a town called YoVille, battled super-heroes, whacked rival Mafiosos, created my own theme park, hunted hidden items, raised dragons, created medieval and post-modern civilizations, waged modern warfare, and built my own city. I feuded with my families, played Banagrams, rock/paper/scissors, slots, bingo, answered Jeopardy-style, got the price right, and spun the wheel of fortune. Of all of these games, the one that excites me most…the only one that has never bored me into blocking it forever, is Words with Friends.

Words With Friends is not true Scrabble (I played that and eventually dropped it.) It is, however, Srabble-esque in nature. Instead of adhering to the very restrictive Scrabble dictionary, Words With Friends has its own very liberal dictionary. It allows some foreign words, albeit on a completely arbitrary basis, it allows slang, it allows many more possibilities—though the game board and tile values mirror Scrabble almost identically. For those of a literarily challenged nature, one can download the a Words With Friends cheat to make themselves more competitive.

I started out playing with my wife, a few mutual friends, my sister, my mother, my cousin’s wife (my greatest competitor and arch-nemesis), and some friends from work. At any given point in time I probably had 10-16 games going. It was a heady and exciting time of life. Pulling an 86 point word like JEOPARDIZE out of my—well—from out of nowhere for the win is gratifying. Also, if Alec Baldwin is right, it is a game for smart people…and it sure makes me feel smart.

Enter the summer of 2012 and the decision that I had wrestled with since the beginning of that previous year: divorce. I left my wife (NOT my son) knowing that the decision came with backlash. I would lose friends…even though they assured me that they were still my friends, things would forever be different. I would lose standing in my church (Mormons do not accept divorce lightly.) I would lose time with my son (at least until a judge can award some back to me.) I prepared myself for all of these contingencies, but it did not prepare me for the one loss that came from left field—Words With Friends.

First the obvious ones dropped me like a heated stone: friends that came through my soon-to-be ex-wife’s family members. Then the friends that we shared mutually resigned their games and disappeared into the night. Then church members dropped off the grid. Then family members—yes my own family members, fell away from the light and truth of literary gamesmanship. Workmates who apparently took her storyline without listening to mine were next to go in the great Words With Friends exodus. Finally, Words With Friends became Words With Friend—my arch-nemesis…and then she too was gone.

Still addicted to the game, and unwilling to give it up, I resorted to pushing the “random opponent” button and starting games with just anybody. I did not care if they used the cheat. I did not care if they were English doctoral candidates. I just wanted to play. So now my game has changed completely from Words With Friends…to Words With Friend…to…

…Words With Strangers.

IT ALL BEGAN AND ENDED WITH A KILT

I may have mentioned before that, for our wedding, I really wanted to wear a kilt. I have Scottish heritage, and I wanted to celebrate it. Jen did not want me to wear a kilt. Was it perhaps jealousy? Was she worried that she would not be the most attractive person in a skirt on her own wedding day?

At any rate, the plan for the kilt lay smoldering on the trash heap.

Over the following 16 years I had tried to revive the idea of a kilt on special occasions. None of them ever happened. Finally we came to a great opportunity: a cruise. I floated the idea with Jen...and it took wing an flew! I then introduced the concept to my friends, and they agreed that it would be ever-so-cool on formal nights to wear a kilt instead of just a plain old boring tuxedo.

Of course some wives prevailed-- so we switched it to the semi-formal night for those boys. But as for me and my house: we would wear the kilt! I think that, in the end, those wives were jealous-- I definitely was the better looking one in the skirt on those nights.

Ok...let me just say that it wasn't all just the kilt issue that took down our marriage. It was really a non-issue compared to other stuff. This is not the forum for that, let me just say that over the last year of my marriage-- even with my awesome son TROY whom I love-- I fell out of love with my Jen. Things came to a head on that cruise, while I was in the kilt. I told her how I felt. Tears fell. Many tears fell. I had already cried out my tears in silence before that point, so I am sure that I looked like the insensitive jerk.

To tell the truth, I replaced the love in my heart that I lost (there are reasons...trust me) with another love. She is the subject of another 300 blogs that are all forthcoming...all under the Vanj heading. But I digress...

After a month of trying to make a relationship work that I had already abandoned, I moved out and on with my life. We are in the early stages of divorce. I am trying to get time with TROY whom I love. I miss him like the rose misses the water. I need him.

So it all began and ended with a kilt.

Once More Into the Breach, Dear Friends

According to the counter on my blog page, we are coming up on 2 years and 16 months of Troy in our lives. What do you do when you do not have children for 14 years, adopt a boy, and he is perfect. What, nobody's perfect you say. No-- Troy is perfect. Let me list the ways that he is perfect for you:

* He eats his vegetables, all of them, and loves them
* He know his abc's and his 123's already
* He says please and thank you, and knows when and where to use these phrases
* He loves to go to bed
* He is cute
* He tells us what is bothering him so that we can help him
* Even when he does throw a 2-year-old fit, he keeps them short

Did I mention that he is perfect?

He is perfect in all ways, but one-- and that is our fault. He would be a perfect older brother, but we have really done nothing about that. Well, it's not like we haven't tried the more conventional means of baby making, but it just hasn't been our strong point. So, after enjoying his infancy, and getting two years older, we decided to pull the trigger on adoption numero dos.

This time we come to the battle armed with the knowledge of how things work. We come ready for the guilt and trauma that no one ever told us about. We come hoping not to wait another five years, but prepared to do so if we must. We come hoping that a perfectly lovely woman wants a perfect older brother to play with her yet-to-be born baby. Yes, as Henry the V said, "Once more into the breach, dear friends!"

Getting the Word Out There

Last week we had some difficult news come our way. Our doctor raised a concern over the asymmetric manner in which my son's head is growing. He used a big word: craniosynostosis. I looked it up on WebMD (http://www.webmd.com/hw-popup/craniosynostosis-craniostenosis), and did not like what it had to say. What I really disliked was at how this big medical word attached itself to my son. This condition comes about when a baby's skull comes together too early. When the sutures seal too early it causes the baby's head to grow in a mis-shaped manner. The brain can find growing room in such a skull a premium. To be short, the condition results in a life of pain, developmental delay, and seizures.

We set up an appointment with a pediatric neurologist for next Friday. I hope that we will find some answers to questions that I did not have before this week. Ok- to be honest I hope that my doctor's concern, though well-founded, is wrong.

I just want to invite my friends and family out there to say some prayers for us as we prepare for Friday. We can use all of the faith, prayers, fasting, love, and support that our loving family and friends have to offer.

ANGER MANAGEMENT

I can’t really pinpoint when it all started. I have my theories, most of them stemming from semi-abandonment issues that I may have developed after my little brother, L, had his accident. I’m nearly certain that it all didn’t happen until after that event. I can’t even really narrow my memories down to the first time that I let it happen.

Oh yeah, you heard me correctly, I “let” it happen.

I have always had a temper, but I managed to hold it in for a long time. Not at home, mind you, I would go off at home. However, sitting in class I would not have let out the beast that simmered just below the surface of my public emotions. I do know that certain people became regular targets, and others would never be the subject of my violence. Really, if I could find Doug Moe, Jason Ernst, Shawn Moore, J.P. Guerra, Mike Christy or any of the other people that felt terrorized by my lack of anger management skills, I will do anything to show them how sorry I am for it.

You see, I hit people. I choked them. I genuinely wanted to hurt people. That is just not nice. These are not the acts of a confident person. That is not how my parents taught me to act. That is not how society bred me to comport myself.

Sadly, I will have to wait for the afterlife to apologize to Dan Moe…he has graduated already from this mortal sphere. I can, however, say that I am sorry for being an ignorant mess to my friends who knew me.

I’ll start here: Andrew, Anj, I am so sorry.

MAGIC HAND OF FATE

Most folks never know
What magic has done
They walk with their eyes closed to the stars.
Most people ignore,
When they walk out their door,
The influence of Jupiter or Mars.

But for the few chosen souls,
Aligned with the Earth’s poles,
Each day is an unfolding mystery.
They see facts very clear,
Just as a nose is not an ear,
How arcana has shaped our whole history.

How does a boy of small stature,
The son of a lowly thatcher,
Walk a path that leads to a throne?
With an enchanted sword,
A well-spoken word,
He claimed royal right as his own.

Behold the great and wondrous works of man
All guided by a hidden magic hand.

This one is for Justin Olsen

NO MORE A GUN VIRGIN

I have to make this confession. I have to do it now while I have the nerve to do it. It’s always hard to admit these things. I mean, I’m an American, I live in Colorado—it’s not like I haven’t seen this sort of thing on the streets, in my father’s bedroom closet behind his church suits, on television. I know that my friends have had experience in these things for much longer than I, yet I would just laugh along at their stories as if I knew the titillating thrill of which they spoke.

Well my days of pretending are over. I am now a man of experience—at one with the ways of the world. I know the secret passion that I had always longed for but was just too timid to take. I am no longer a gun virgin.

Oh, don’t think that I haven’t dabbled. I’ve experimented as a teenager—who hasn’t? But I never really went “all the way” when it came to firearms. I have looked down the barrel of my dad’s .22. I’ve seen them, touched them, and always wondered what it would be like to fire one. I played a mean Duck Hunt on the Nintendo NES. One time, when I was 15, I shot a black powdered rifle. I learned just recently that it had powder but no ball.

No ball--are you kidding me? I shot an impotent gun!

Last weekend, in the summer of my 41st year I went to Cherry Creek State Park where I ended my secret shame. I went with some friends to celebrate a 40th birthday and shot 12 gauge rifles at some poor, unsuspecting clay pigeons. In 25 shots I hit 13—not bad

Now I will take measures to ensure that I don’t miss out on the fun any longer. I am shopping for a shotgun of my own. I am researching guns, prices, and testimonials. I plan on renting a few before I buy. I am even looking into the law—so’s that I don’t go breaking it or nothing’ like that. (Sorry, my inner-redneck just woke up from a long slumber.) The law in Colorado is surprisingly more lax than the media reports.

Now I know what it is like to walk in the sun for the first time in my life. My step has a spring in it that I have never experienced. I’m going to take my wife shooting on Labor Day—she should share in this, up until now, forbidden passion with me. What a great day to be an American!

The Highland Wizard

He travels the hills by day
collecting roots and twigs and grass
he wanders across the valley
searching the wide morass.

He passes by no fungus
and covets every spice.
His skills at potion brewing
have earned a handsome price.

He seeks to help the widow
with the useless withered arm.
He packs a fragrant sachet
for a bridal good luck charm.

The mountain people seek him out--
they travel from miles away
to find the old White Wizard,
and no one refuses to pay.

The Truth About Mermaids

Gossipy little mermaids
Swim in their clicky pods
They speak in whispered voices
And give their judging nods.

So pretty from afar they are
But distances are concealing
When you swim in for a closer look
Barbed tongues they’ll be revealing

To your face they are your friends
But once you take your leave
They lean in close to giggle and jibe
About your bad hair-weave

They act like you’re an equal
And maybe share a tale of hate
But rest assured that once you’re gone
Your reputation is on their plate.

A Sprite at Tea Time

If you wish for the crazies to stay far away
never have tea with a sprite.
For they only will hear every third word you say
smirking to just give you spite.

"How are you this fine day? Have you had a good trip?"
you might say as you first meet.
"But you know that I bruise like a peach over ripe.
Do you have honey to eat?"

"Have you fallen my dear?" concern hangs on your voice.
"I see flowers are budding, it's spring."
"Yes I know that its spring-- never mind, take a seat."
"Takes? My dear no-- not such thing.

"It gives green to the world with a bright shiny smile.
That is the beauty in life."
Though she just came around, and the tea 's yet to pour,
she cuts your wits like a knife.

"And your mother, I trust, fares she well in these days?"
Maybe politeness will win.
"There's a plan, so I've heard, to raise up her rates.
My but three gold seems a sin.

"And for what, dare I ask, do you get for three gold?
Babies and children we are not!
But her fares she will raise, and of course we will pay--
My what a lovely honey pot."

And you see now, you do, why I gave my advice:
Tea time 's not time for sprites.
Though a lovely guest she would seem right at first
Always tea ends up in fights.

Researching Workout Programs for People Suffering with Multiple Sclerosis

Losing weight, as it turns out, follows a law of thermodynamics: eating fewer calories than burned results in weight loss. However, fitness involves desire followed up with determined action. Whereas for most people this may be merely an issue of self will, a person living with relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis (MS) will find that achieving fitness goals beyond just losing weight a difficult prospect at best. The Rocky Mountain MS Center relates MS as a progressive and unpredictable disease of the central nervous system. This disorder causes the immune system to attack the myelin sheath (the insulation that assists the nerve fibers in transmitting signals to and from the brain.). Over time these attacks can destroy nerves entirely, leaving behind lesions, or plaques, in the place of the functioning nerve.

“The damage from lesions disrupts the transmission of nerve impulses from the central nervous system to the rest of the body causing a variety of symptoms. Common symptoms include visual changes, muscle weakness, problems with balance, fatigue, numbness, and emotional and cognitive changes but there are many others. MS has periods when the disease is quite active known as exacerbations. During exacerbations symptoms can be more pronounced, but usually subside and sometimes go away after an exacerbation” (Rocky Mountain MS Center, 2010).

A person suffering from this type of malady must carefully regulate any activity that requires physical strength or endurance. Managing an exercise program to achieve fitness goals resembles a walk on a tightrope: building and maintaining new strength without sacrificing the already low reserves of energy such a person possesses. To achieve this intricate balance, one must maintain vigilance to select carefully a workout routine. Researching and comparing the workout programs outlined in Bill Phillips’ book Body for Life with low-impact aerobic workouts will help the MS sufferer to choose the best fitness options available. To complete this research, one may go to the public library and check out the book Body for Life as well as take advantage of the library's online database.

Body for Life and Aerobic Workout
Bill Phillips, in the Body for Life workout program outlined in the book by the same name, uses what he calls the High Point Technique. This is a rating system for the energy that a person exerts.

“On the low end – at level 1 – you’ve got the intensity of sitting on the couch and watching TV. Level 2 would be standing; level 3 might be walking; level 4 might be carrying a couple of bags of groceries in from the car; level 5 might be carrying those groceries of up stairs; and so on, up to level 10, which is an all out, 100 percent focused effort” (Phillips, pg. 60, 1999). To

maximize the effects of a 20-minute aerobics workout, Phillips (Phillips, pg. 66, 1999) has designed a system that will have the body burning fat for hours after leaving the gym. Two basic rules to follow: do the exercise while fasting, and do not eat for an hour after completing the circuit. The 20-Minute Aerobics Solution works by starting at intensity level five for two minutes. This acts as a warm up level only, and it is meant to be a self regulating level of activity--whatever the individual believes is his or her personal capability. Next the workout increases slightly up a notch to reach a level six effort for one minute. For next three consecutive minutes the plan calls for an increase in intensity one level for each minute, until the person exercising reaches an intensity level of nine. This is a minute of purely pushing the body as hard as stamina will allow but not quite at the point of all out physical exertion. Then the exerciser will retreat back down to a level six intensity “a relatively moderate effort” according to Phillips (Body for Life, pg. 66, 1999). Repeating that pattern three times, but at the peak of the final circuit the exerciser must reach for a level 10: maximum effort. End the workout with a minute back at level five. A person need not limit himself by what kind of workout or machine he uses, or to following a group’s level of intensity.

Although the plan appears flawless, one may question how much of this intense workout someone with limited energy reserves can endure. This calls upon the individual to monitor how much is enough, and when it is too much. This is a personalized system, made to follow the individual’s abilities, which makes it perfect for a person suffering from MS. A person need not pigeon-hole himself by what kind of workout or machine he uses, or by following a group’s level of intensity. Placing this system in service a person can use gym equipment such as a stationary bike, rowing machine, or participate in aerobics that require no equipment such as shadow boxing, or tai chi—the effort will equal the same calorie burn when done correctly.

Body for Life and Anaerobic Workout
The Body for Life workout plan of weight training allows the exerciser to listen to his or her body and perform up to potential. Switching between upper and lower body, and targeting different muscles each workout should keep the muscles in a constant state of confusion. To maintain a workable level of energy throughout the week, a person with MS may feel the need to back off on the intensity of the workout by supplementing the weight training with different anaerobic exercise techniques. Using a band workout in the place of weights will not decrease the effect of the workout, but it will allow the muscles more time to recover strength--which is never an easy prospect for someone who faces chronic fatigue.

Body for Life Eating Plan
More than just a workout plan, the Body for Life plan also offers nutritional counsel to help build the body. Phillips offers an overview of the program found on page 98. The system requires three meals daily balanced with protein, carbohydrate, vegetable, and fruit. Furthermore, the plan calls for three high protein snacks positioned between each meal and one after dinner. The plan also prescribes topping meals after seven p.m. The one unique quality of the plan is the “free day.” That is, a day when one can eat or drink whatever he wishes without negatively affecting the regimen. Phillips endorses such a day as a break from the body: both from diet and exercise. By allowing the body to recuperate on all levels, a person can expect better performance throughout the other six days of the week. Furthermore, by allowing a day of sweets, pizza, soda, or whatever else a body’s taste buds may desire the natural craving tendencies that follow such plans have no place to dwell.

Low-Impact Aerobics Options
Low-impact does not have to mean low intensity. Using the database library that the University of Phoenix makes available to students and faculty, one will find ample articles and academic papers that provide information necessary to make an informed decision. In an article written for the Canadian Journal of Health and Fitness, Mike Broderick suggests that one can “add intensity by making the moves more deliberate. Use your legs to move your body up and down with each move, make your arm movements large and strong, and feel your heart rate go up” (Broderick, pg. 104, 2007).

The problem with the low-impact workout comes with the individual’s ability to sustain the activity. Most people with MS complain of fatigue, and also with balance issues. These issues rule out many popular workouts on the market bases on martial arts, dance, or anything that requires a high degree of perpendicular movement. One way to erase these barriers is to move the aerobics routine into the water. In the Canadian Journal of Health and Fitness, aerobics expert Tanya Rouble touts the benefits of a workout which she calls Aquafit. This workout consists of low-impact aerobics in a neck deep pool. “Neck deep water supports 90% of your body weight and relieves stress on knee and hip joints.” She goes on to say that the buoyancy of water decreases the risk of injury because of falling and provides natural resistance no matter what direction a person moves in the water (Rouble, pg. 84, 2008). A drawback with any such low-impact workout remains the amount of time that they take to complete. This goes beyond just a scheduling conflict, but creates the issue of maintaining a balance between keeping fit and keeping energized. Unlike fatigue that the average person will experience after any such workout, the energy well of a person with MS does not replenish quite so easily. So a person with MS concerns himself very much with possessing energy and keeping it.

Conclusion
In comparing the two options of working out, Bill Phillips’ program outlined in his book Body for Life and low-impact aerobic routines farmed from the university library, one can see that both offer value to a person with MS, and both also present disadvantages. Both of them can produce results when done consistently and correctly. The Body for Life plan empowers a person to take charge of the workout. The activity level portion of the plan allows a day of increased energy, or for one of decreased proportions. With the low-impact aerobic solution, one must first find the right instructor or class. One must have either facilities or access to a DVD for instruction. Finding the right fit in an instructor, one who understands the limits of one with multiple sclerosis, may prove a difficult task. Perhaps through a local MS Center, such as the Rocky Mountain MS Center, a person may find such a situation. DVD’s prove to display little sympathy for the abilities of the person exercising, and so it may spend more time on pause, and in the case than doing much good. Ultimately a person with MS must formulate his or her own plan, with the help of a knowledgeable doctor or physical therapist, to choose which is right for the individual. The hope remains that a person can gain more energy through exercise, even while battling a debilitating disease.

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References
Phillips, B., & D'Orso, M. (1999). Body for life. New York City, NY: HarperCollins.

Rocky Mountain MS Center. (2010). MS: The basics. Retrieved from http://www.mscenter.org/education/ms-the-basics

Broderick, M. (2007). Getting the most from low impact. Canadian Journal of Health and Fitness, (295), 104. Retrieved from http://web.ebscohost.com.ezproxy.apollolibrary.com/ehost/pdfviewer/pdfviewer?hid=113&sid=b2b612c3-9a42-4273-ba64-b35cf1d3d5ca%40sessionmgr115&vid=3

Rouble, T. (2008). Aquafit deep water workout. Canadian Journal of Health and Fitness, 305(), 84. Retrieved from http://web.ebscohost.com.ezproxy.apollolibrary.com/ehost/pdfviewer/pdfviewer?hid=113&sid=af8c363e-51f4-4166-a720-d0240cf47fac%40sessionmgr104&vid=3

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