How Richard Simmons' Legacy Helped Me Reclaim Hope After My Son's Death

I've never considered myself a "small girl" or thin by society’s standards. Standing 5'8" and usually weighing between 140 and 155 pounds, I've always felt filled out but healthy. Things changed after I had my second child, Adam, in 1993. Unlike the weight I lost after my first pregnancy, the baby weight this time around didn't just fade away. It kept increasing… and I felt like I only had myself to blame. 

Sleepless nights, stress eating, and the constant exhaustion from juggling two little ones left me too tired to work out. I found every excuse to avoid moving, let alone make a run to the gym, and as a result, the weight continued to pile on. My blood pressure skyrocketed and I couldn’t climb stairs without gasping for air. When the scale flashed a daunting 199 in ominous red numbers, panic set in and I knew I had to make a change. I no longer recognized the swollen, unhealthy body in the mirror. 

It wasn't just about losing weight—it was about reclaiming my confidence and learning to love myself again. 

I found inspiration and hope in the legendary Richard Simmons. He became my guiding light and the steadfast cheerleader I needed throughout my journey. When I first encountered Simmons' aerobic routines and Deal-A-Meal portion control weight loss program, I was overwhelmed by the idea of losing weight. Like many, I had tried various diets and forms of exercise but struggled to find something that worked for me. Simmons’ approach was different. His boundless energy and unwavering support felt like a personal lifeline, motivating me every step of the way. It wasn't just about losing weight—it was about reclaiming my confidence and learning to love myself again. 

Simmons projected an infectious enthusiasm. He made every workout feel like a celebration, turning what once felt like an uphill battle into a joyful experience. As I shed the pounds, I also shed the doubts and insecurities that had weighed me down for so long. I dealt myself delicious meals, embraced the mantra "never say diet," and sweated to the oldies until I felt healthier, happier, and 70 pounds lighter. Simmons had an unparalleled impact on my life and, even now, his voice echoes in my mind, reminding me to stay strong, stay positive, and never give up on myself—three overlapping mindsets that are once again a daily struggle.

I am living every parent’s worst nightmare. I lost my beloved Adam in October of last year. His unexpected death changed everything. The routines and habits I built up  over the years crumbled as I struggled to navigate this dark, suffocating new norm. Time has marched on around me, but I’m still clinging to the past—holding on to all the pieces that are left of him, clenching to the precious before. I don’t want to forget the sound of my sweet boy’s voice, the way he lit up a room, or the three pointers he swished each time he hustled onto a court.

The chasm that cracked through my heart the day Adam left this world is a constant reminder of all that will never be, and it’s been so hard to push on. There is no self-care when there is endless despair. This has been my reality for more than ten months. I’ve gained 20 pounds, scoffed at picking up a kettlebell  or taking a walk, and fallen into a pointless routine of work, clean, and broken sleep. But I think I’ve found a small lifeline once again: Richard Simmons. 

When I learned of Richard Simmons' passing on social media, it struck me deeply. It was a heartbreaking moment, but it also brought his profound influence on my life back into sharp focus. I’ll admit, I hadn’t thought much about my favorite personal trainer and lifestyle guru in quite some time. His teachings had become a way of life, not a temporary fix so I didn’t lean into him like I had before. Now, with grief robbing my spirit and misery hardening in my bones, I could hear him reminding me: “In order to cope, you must have hope.”

In order to cope, you must have hope. What poetic and wonderful words.

Adam would want me to have hope. He'd want me to be healthy.

Adam would want me to have hope. He would want me to keep living and loving and feeling. He’d want me to be healthy. So, I’ve started reintroducing some of Simmons’ exercise routines into my daily schedule and revisited the fundamentals of his Deal-A-Meal program—making better food choices and focusing on portion size. Simmons' voice, even through old videos and materials, is serving as a comforting guide, reminding me to be kind to myself and take things one step at a time.

The journey to reclaim my health and rediscover myself is far from easy. Some days, the grief feels overwhelming. But by channeling Richard Simmons' positivity and commitment to perseverance, I'm finding moments of hope. These are the same qualities Adam had, and I know he’d smile seeing me embrace them as I continue on this path.

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