close
close

Fitness guru who combined laughter and sweating dies at 76

Fitness guru who combined laughter and sweating dies at 76

RIchard Simmons, the hyperactive fitness jester of television who, in his trademark tank tops and short shorts, built a small empire by exhorting overweight people to exercise and eat better, died on Saturday. He was 76 on Friday.

Simmons died at his home in Los Angeles, his press secretary Tom Estey said in an email to The Associated Press. He did not provide further details.

Los Angeles police and firefighters said they were called to a home where a man had died of natural causes. The AP matched the home’s address to Simmons’ using public records.

Simmons, who announced a skin diagnosis in March 2024, had been off the radar recently, sparking speculation about his health and well-being. His death was first reported by TMZ.

Simmons was a former 268-pound teenager who dominated many forms of media. He shared his hard-won weight-loss tips as host of the Emmy-winning “Richard Simmons Show” and was the author of best-selling books and the Deal-A-Meal diet plan. He also opened gyms and starred in fitness videos, including the wildly successful “Sweatin’ to the Oldies” series, which became a cultural phenomenon.

“My eating plan and diet are just two words – common sense. With a pinch of humor,” he told the Associated Press in 1982. “I want to help people and make the world a healthier, happier place.”

Simmons used mass communication to spread his message, even though he eventually became a laughing stock for his outfits and flamboyant style. He was a welcome guest on television shows hosted by Merv Griffin, Mike Douglas and Phil Donahue. But David Letterman played pranks on him and Howard Stern teased him until he cried. He was lampooned on Broadway in Neil Simon’s “The Goodbye Girl” in 1993, and Eddie Murphy put on white makeup, dressed like him in “The Nutty Professor” and screamed “I’m a pony!”

When asked if he thought he could motivate people through silliness, Simmons replied, “I think there are times when you have to be serious and times when you have to be silly. It’s about knowing when to do it. I try to find a good combination. Silliness cures depression. It surprises people and makes them think. But in between all that silliness, there’s a lot of seriousness that makes sense. It’s a different kind of workout.”

Simmons’ daytime show was broadcast on 200 stations in America, as well as in Australia, New Zealand, the Philippines, Japan and South America. His first book, Never Say Diet, was a huge bestseller.

He was known for counseling people who were severely overweight, including Rosalie Bradford, the record holder for the world’s heaviest woman, and Michael Hebranko, who thanked Simmons for helping him lose 670 pounds. Simmons used real people – chubby, bald or non-telegenic – in his workout videos to make fitness goals seem attainable.

Throughout his career, Simmons has been a reliable critic of diets, always emphasizing healthy eating and exercise regimens. “There’s always going to be something weird about eating four grapes before bed, drinking a special tea or buying that little bean from El Salvador,” he told the AP in 2005, as the Atkins diet craze swept the country. “If you watch your portions, have a good attitude and exercise every day, you’ll live longer, feel better and look great.”

A native of New Orleans, Simmons was a chubby boy his parents called Milton. (At about age 10, he changed his name to “Richard” to improve his self-image.) He told people he ate too much because he thought his parents liked his older brother more. He was teased by his schoolmates and weighed nearly 200 pounds.

Simmons told the AP that his mother watched fitness guru Jack LaLanne’s television show regularly when he was growing up, but he wasn’t crazy about the fitness fanatic. “I hated him,” Simmons said. “I wasn’t ready for his message because he was fit and healthy and had such a positive attitude, and I was none of that.”

Simmons went to Italy as an exchange student and ended up shooting peanut butter commercials and bacchanalian eating scenes for director Federico Fellini in his film “Fellini Satyricon.” He told the AP: “I was fat and had curly hair. The Italians thought I was hysterical. I was the life of every party.”

His life changed after he received an anonymous letter. “One dark, rainy day, I went to my car and found a note. It said, ‘Dear Richard, you are very funny, but fat people die young. Please don’t die.'” He was so stunned that he began a starvation diet that left him thin but seriously ill.

After the crash diet, he gained 65 pounds back. Eventually, he managed to develop a sensible plan to lose the pounds and keep them off. “I got into the business because I couldn’t find anything I liked,” he said.

When Simmons was not seen in public for several years, some news outlets speculated that he was being held hostage in his own home. In phone interviews with “Entertainment Tonight” and the “Today” show, Simmons denied these claims and told his fans he was enjoying time alone. Filmmaker and author Dan Taberski, one of his regular students, started a podcast called “Missing Richard Simmons” in 2017.

In 2022, Simmons broke his six-year silence when his spokesperson told the New York Post that the popular fitness icon is “living the life he chose.”

One of the online tributes following Simmons’ death came from actor and comedian Pauly Shore, who had previously developed an unauthorized biopic about Simmons, which Simmons objected to at the time.

“Just learned, like everyone else, that the wonderful Richard Simmons has passed away,” he began in an Instagram post. “I hope you rest in peace and shine in heaven,” adding, “You are one of a kind Richard. An incredible life. An incredible story.”