For years, Jamie Selzler dreaded exercise. Between her 20s and 30s, as her weight increased, she would force herself to go to the gym, but the mental image of a demanding fitness trainer – like Jillian Michaels from “The Biggest Loser” – pushing her harder and demanding more weight loss lingered. Often, she’d reward her efforts with fast food. By her 40s, she had gained so much weight that walking to her mailbox became a struggle.
In 2023, fearing complete immobility, Selzler began taking the weight-loss medication Wegovy. After several months, as she lost weight and activity became easier, she was surprised to find herself looking forward to her daily walks in her Fargo, North Dakota neighborhood. When lifting weights at home, she enjoyed feeling her muscles contract. For the first time, she stopped viewing exercise as a means to burn calories and began to take pride in what her body could do.
Today, Selzler walks or hikes daily in local parks and strength trains four times a week. “I fell in love with physical activity in a way I didn’t expect,” she says. She recently became a certified personal trainer.
For many Americans, medications for weight loss – generally known as GLP-1s – are reshaping attitudes toward physical activity and, in some cases, redefining relationships long marked by shame. This shift has implications for public health as it challenges conventional approaches to fitness and weight management.
In interviews, more than a dozen people taking medications like Ozempic for obesity or diabetes reported discovering that, freed from the pressure to exercise to burn calories or lose weight, they were able to connect more with what they genuinely enjoyed about movement. Instead of viewing exercise as punishment for overeating – or eating as a reward for exercise – they were now experiencing it as a pathway to well-being.
“When people are trying to lose weight without these medications, they’re often consumed with the details of how much to eat or how much to move,” says Summer Kessel, a registered dietitian specializing in obesity management, who also takes Zepbound. “Most people don’t have the mental space while dieting to request, ‘Why do I hate exercise?’ Medications can free people to produce different choices about exercise.”
For decades, the fitness industry has been linked to weight loss, adds Renee Rogers, an exercise physiologist and obesity researcher at the University of Kansas Medical Center, despite the fact that exercise alone is often not an effective strategy for weight reduction. “With the rise of these medications, exercise professionals have an opportunity to support people redefine the role of movement in their lives,” she says.
Many people taking these medications also reported newfound motivation to strength train, as some evidence suggests a link between these drugs and loss of muscle mass. Rogers notes that it’s still unclear whether this loss is directly caused by the medication or simply a side effect of significant weight loss. She is currently conducting research to learn more.
Dana Greene, 59, had always seen exercise as an obligation, but when she started taking Mounjaro, she suddenly felt enthusiastic about using the weight machines at her gym.
She had spent several years caring for her mother, who had grow completely sedentary. When Greene’s granddaughter was born, her mother was too weak to hold her. “It was particularly hard to watch,” she said, adding that she thought, “This isn’t going to happen to me.”
Two years after starting the medication, a large oak tree fell on her property. Over two weekends, she cut and removed the tree entirely. “My dad, my brother, everyone said, ‘I can’t believe it.’ I did it all myself,” she recounted.
For some individuals, these medications also make exercise physically more comfortable, both by facilitating weight loss and potentially reducing inflammation.
When Lee Anglea, 57, began taking Mounjaro in 2024, she experienced constant pain in her ankles, knees, hips, and lower back. She often used a cane. “I was terrified to exercise. If I tried to walk, I would be in pain for days.”
Today, she recalls that shortly after taking her first dose, the pain subsided, and she gradually increased the number of steps she took each day. She also began doing resistance training and chair yoga. She felt increasingly better and loved how movement quieted her mind.
“I really thought people who said exercise makes you happier and exercise is fun were not telling the truth. I couldn’t understand how that could even be possible. Now, it’s an absolute joy,” she says.
Last year, when she crossed the finish line of her first 5K race, she became emotional. “I cried like a baby. I just couldn’t believe it,” she remembers.
Some people taking these medications also find that their newfound desire to exercise helps them view food as a vital source of energy rather than an obstacle to their health.
“For many years, before taking GLP-1s, I saw food as the reward for moving,” said Selzler. “Now I see food as fuel for my movement.”
Not everyone taking medication for weight loss has had such a positive experience with exercise. Online forums are filled with conversations about the difficulty of overcoming fatigue or gastrointestinal side effects of the medications, which can make movement challenging.
For some, this may be due to not eating or hydrating enough, as the medications work in part by reducing appetite and can also reduce thirst.
And with so much emphasis placed on preserving muscle mass, some people prioritize protein at the expense of a balanced diet with plenty of fluids, which can improve endurance and strength, experts said.
For Becky Hinman, 38, a competitive recreational tennis player, Zepbound was “a bit of a double-edged sword.” While losing weight relieved pain in her knee and made her faster on the court, she fatigued more quickly and struggled to complete a singles match. Over time, she reduced her dose and improved her nutrition and hydration, and found the side effects lessened.
The fitness industry is slowly adapting to a world where promises of dramatic weight loss no longer appeal to people. Some fitness professionals see weight-loss medications as a threat, while others have responded by promoting exercise programs specifically designed for people taking them.
Rogers, who has been working with the American Council on Exercise (ACE) to educate exercise professionals about these medications, is wary of these programs, as it’s unclear on what evidence they are based.
Instead, Rogers sees the drugs as an opportunity to help more people find pleasure and meaning in exercise and to discover what works best for them.
“We can’t ignore that people who don’t identify with exercise or who have had negative experiences may need a little extra support to get there,” she said.
Selzler now can’t imagine a life without long walks in the parks of North Dakota or watching her bench press improve at the gym. “It’s like I got out of jail, and I’m not going back,” she says.
By Danielle Friedman
