The other morning, I picked up a pair of 12-pound hand weights and completed three sets of four exercises. It was a short routine I made up myself.

One day does not establish a habit. But it does establish a beginning.

I am preparing for a trial next week and thinking about a sermon I will deliver on November 1. There are plenty of things competing for my attention. Still, the weights have been available for quite some time (years!). My schedule does not explain their lack of use.

I have written about exercise, physical stewardship, and aging gratefully. I believe what I write. But I was feeling unhappy with myself for seemingly preaching one thing and doing another—or, in this case, not doing it.

Then something I read in a health app gave me a nudge.

An Encouraging Report Card. Mostly.

For the past couple of weeks, I have been wearing both a Garmin watch and a Hume Band. I also have the scales that work with each system. Both are gathering information about my activity, sleep, heart rate, weight, and estimated body composition. Here’s a quick shout of thanks to Curtis Kimball for suggesting that I consider the Hume products!

As an analyst, I find this interesting. Whether wearing two devices makes me twice as informed remains to be seen.

Garmin reports my Fitness Age as 68. At 78, I am pleased to read that. It also suggests increasing my vigorous activity minutes and the number of days on which I accumulate them, while reducing body fat. My resting heart rate is 58 beats per minute, which Garmin recommends maintaining.

Hume provides considerably more commentary. Its reported Metabolic Age is 61, which the app describes as signaling “strong physiological resilience.”

I rather liked that part.

My overall Hume Health Score is 767 out of 900. Cardiovascular health and sleep are particular strengths. Then I get to body composition.

C+.

Apparently, a favorable age estimate does not excuse me from the rest of the coursework.

One finding that caught my attention was Hume’s assessment that my muscle distribution favored my upper body relative to my lower body. The app suggested prioritizing lower-body resistance training.

Hume also estimates that my left side carries slightly more lean tissue than my right. That gives me another question to explore as more readings become available.

I have been working off and on to improve my balance. It is easier to talk about than to do. Now the app was giving me another reason to pay attention to strength, particularly in my legs.

What the Numbers Can Tell Us

There is a temptation to accept the flattering numbers immediately and scrutinize (or ignore) the others. I suspect I am not alone in that.

These systems provide estimates. Fitness Age, Metabolic Age, and Biological Age are different measures, and they should not be treated as interchangeable. Garmin’s Fitness Age, for example, incorporates factors including activity intensity, resting heart rate, and body fat percentage or body mass index. It is a useful perspective on fitness, rather than a revised birth certificate. [1]

There are also differences between the systems’ body-fat estimates that I need to understand better. Both scales reported 198 pounds that morning. Their agreement about my weight does not mean their estimates of everything inside those pounds agree. That is considerably better than the 212 pounds I weighed when I started my disciplined walking program almost seven years ago. Still, I would like to reduce my waistline while building strength.

Hume repeatedly notes that it does not yet have sufficient information to establish trends. That seems worth remembering after only a couple of weeks.

For now, I am treating its commentary as information to consider and questions to explore. The lower-body assessment has not established a medical diagnosis. It has, however, focused my attention on something I already knew deserved work.

That has value.

Walking Is Part of the Answer

For years, I have averaged more than five miles of walking per day. I also play pickleball regularly. Those habits are important to me, and I intend to continue them.

But I have done almost no structured resistance training.

The National Institute on Aging identifies aerobic activity, muscle strengthening, and balance as complementary forms of exercise for older adults. Its discussion of strength training makes an encouraging point: older adults can increase strength, helping preserve mobility and independence. [2, 3] It seems I have been doing well in one out of the three areas of exercise!

Look at the link to NIA below.  There is considerable information about exercises focused on areas of concern.

Balance also deserves deliberate practice. A major Cochrane review found that programs emphasizing balance and functional exercises reduced the rate of falls by about 24% among older adults living in the community. These are exercises directed toward steadiness and the movements needed in everyday life. [4]

That gets my attention. I want to continue traveling with Carol, walking, playing pickleball, and doing ordinary things for myself. Strength and balance matter to the life I want to keep living.

My walking habit is well established. I now need to give strength and balance a more consistent place in the week.  And, I need to add a bit more intensity to my walking, which I will do.

There is also some unfinished business around my waist. I would like to lose perhaps 10 to 15 pounds. But the objective should include maintaining or building strength as the waistline gets smaller. A lower number on the scale will be more satisfying if I can still carry a suitcase.

From Information to Action

Hume has provided me with information and motivation. Its commentary made a general intention more specific. I could see something to work on.

That first short workout concentrated on my upper body. Fine as a beginning, but I need to include lower-body resistance work and become more consistent with balance practice. I also need to learn enough to do these things properly.

None of this requires an enormous amount of time. It does require giving it a place in my schedule and following through.

I am sharing the beginning because that is where I am. I have completed one workout, and the next one is still waiting for me to do it. And perhaps, I am sharing it as an extra bit of incentive for me to follow through.

At 78, I am still learning. I am grateful for that, and for the ability to put what I learn to use.

The devices have given me plenty to read. Now I need to give them something new to measure.

As always, be well, and age gratefully,

Chris

PS If you like this blog, share it with your friends and social media.  They will probably like it, too.

PSS I first drafted this post on Monday, October 19th.  It is now Friday, the 23rd, and I am sneaking in this pss before publication tomorrow morning.  With some intentional effort, I did my weight routine on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  On Tuesday and Thursday, I focused on exercising.  I added standing balanced on one leg multiple repetitions every day, and some stretching.  I’ve got a ways to go there, but I’m working on it.  And I added more intense minutes to my walking this week.  Knowing better doesn’t lift the weights, but you and I can if we commit to doing it. Have a great week!

References

1. Garmin. What Is Your Garmin Fitness Age? How Can You Lower It?
2. National Institute on Aging. Three Types of Exercise Can Improve Your Health and Physical Ability.
3. National Institute on Aging. How Can Strength Training Build Healthier Bodies as We Age?
4. Sherrington C, et al. Exercise for Preventing Falls in Older People Living in the Community. Cochrane Database of Systematic Reviews. 2019;1:CD012424.

Personal device readings and app commentary are from the author’s Garmin and Hume apps in October 2026. They are personal observations rather than independent research findings.

I have written three previous posts about GLP-1 drugs and their potential impact on our health, our behavior, and even familiar companies such as Weight Watchers. The more I have learned, the more significant these drugs appear to be.

But there is another question that cannot be avoided: What do GLP-1 drugs actually cost?

I am not a physician, pharmacist, insurance specialist, or pharmaceutical pricing expert. I am not attempting to tell anyone which drug to take or where to obtain it. I have, however, spent much of my professional life thinking about price, cost, and value. Those three things are related, but they are not the same.

And when it comes to GLP-1 drugs, they are definitely not the same.

One qualification is necessary at the outset. Everything that follows reflects information available in early September 2026. GLP-1 drugs, insurance coverage, government programs, and pricing are changing rapidly. Anything written today may be dated quickly. All we can do is make the best sense we can of the current information—and continue to watch the market.

One Drug—Many Prices

The official list price for Wegovy is about $1,350 per month. Zepbound has a list price of about $1,087 per month. Other GLP-1 drugs have similarly imposing sticker prices.

Those numbers are real, but many patients do not pay them. A commercially insured patient with coverage and a manufacturer’s savings card might pay $25 per month. An eligible Medicare beneficiary might pay $50 per month under the new Bridge Plan. Someone purchasing directly from a manufacturer might pay between $149 per month and $449 per month. An uninsured patient without access to one of these programs could still encounter a price approaching $1,000 per month or more.

And someone responding to a telehealth advertisement may discover that the prominently displayed price covers the membership—not the medicine.

The result is a pricing range extending from $25 per month to more than $1,000 per month for drugs that may contain the same active ingredient. So, what is the “price” of a GLP-1? The only honest answer may be: It depends.

The New Cash-Pay Market

The legitimate cash market for GLP-1 drugs has changed rapidly. According to Novo Nordisk’s current pricing information, Wegovy injections are available for $199 per month for the first two introductory-dose months and generally $349 per month thereafter. Wegovy pills range from $149 per month at the starting dose to $299 per month at higher doses.

Through LillyDirect, Zepbound begins at $299 per month, rising to $399 per month and then $449 per month as dosages increase. Lilly’s Foundayo pill ranges from $149 per month to approximately $349 per month, depending on dosage and temporary offers.

The distinction between list price and cash price is striking. A drug with a list price of $1,350 per month may be available directly from the manufacturer for $349 per month—or substantially less as an introductory dose.

The list price has begun to resemble the sticker price on new automobiles. It is important, but it does not necessarily tell us what anyone actually paid.

The Medicare GLP-1 Bridge

On July 1, 2026, the federal government’s Medicare GLP-1 Bridge began to provide certain weight-management drugs to eligible Medicare Part D beneficiaries with a copay of $50 per month. Covered drugs include Wegovy, Zepbound KwikPen, and Foundayo.

That $50 per month is the patient’s genuine out-of-pocket price for the medicine. It is not an introductory telehealth fee. But not every Medicare beneficiary qualifies. Eligibility generally requires a BMI of at least 35, or a lower BMI accompanied by specified medical conditions such as chronic kidney disease, uncontrolled hypertension, prediabetes, or prior cardiovascular events. Prior authorization is also required.

The program currently runs through December 31, 2027. For those who qualify, access at $50 per month could be life changing. For those who fall just outside the eligibility requirements, the difference between $50 per month and $349 per month may be equally significant.

What Are Ro and Weight Watchers Actually Selling?

Telehealth companies add another layer. Ro currently advertises its weight-management program for $39 for the first month. But that is the introductory membership fee—not the cost of a GLP-1 drug. After the first month, Ro’s membership costs between $74 per month and $149 per month, depending on whether the patient prepays for a longer period. The medication is billed separately.

A patient taking a maintenance dose of Wegovy through Ro might therefore pay $349 per month for the medicine plus $74 per month to $149 per month for membership and medical support. The total could be approximately $423 per month to $498 per month.

Weight Watchers has adopted a similar structure as it incorporates GLP-1 drugs into its traditional behavioral weight-loss programs. Its Med+ program currently advertises an introductory membership price of $25 per month for the first two months with a 12-month commitment. After that, the membership price increases to $74 per month for the remaining ten months. The cost of a GLP-1 drug is separate.

Weight Watchers is selling more than access to a prescription. Its program includes medical supervision, insurance assistance, nutrition counseling, behavioral support, workshops, and the familiar Weight Watchers app and community. That combination may have value, but the advertised membership price is not the patient’s total monthly cost.

The fine print may tell the whole truth. But it can be misleading to anyone not reading all of it.

What Are People Actually Paying?

Published evidence confirms that payments vary enormously. A 2025 study in JAMA Health Forum examined nearly 10,000 GLP-1 prescriptions. Among prescriptions that were filled, patients paid an average of approximately $72 for a 30-day supply. Patients treated for obesity without diabetes paid considerably more—about $134 for a 30-day supply on average.

But approximately 40% of the prescriptions were never filled. That creates a significant blind spot. Studies can measure what purchasers paid. They generally cannot tell us how many patients arrived at the pharmacy, heard the price, and went home without the medicine.

A broader 2026 study in the Journal of General Internal Medicine used federal expenditure data and found median out-of-pocket spending of $1,528 per year, or about $127 per month. Among people with at least two prescription fills, median spending was $2,070 per year. People 65 and older paid a median of $1,964 per year.

A late-2025 KFF survey adds the patient perspective. Some 56% of GLP-1 users said the drugs were difficult to afford, and 27% of insured users said they paid the full cost themselves. Among former users, 14% said they stopped because of cost.

These studies do not provide a single answer. They demonstrate why there is no single answer. Insurance helps many people, but the word “insured” does not necessarily mean that a particular drug, or its use for weight loss, is covered.

The Compounded and Gray Markets

During the GLP-1 shortages, compounded semaglutide and tirzepatide became widely available. Many patients obtained them through licensed prescribers and compounding pharmacies.

The shortages have ended, and the rules have tightened. Compounded drugs may still be appropriate in certain patient-specific circumstances, but they are not FDA-approved substitutes that can automatically be mass-produced whenever they are cheaper than the branded product.

Advertised prices for compounded products are often lower than branded cash prices, although comparisons are difficult because some prices include medical consultations, membership fees, laboratory work, and shipping while others do not. Beyond legitimate compounding lies a gray—and sometimes plainly illegal—market involving questionable online sellers, counterfeit products, and substances labeled “for research purposes.”

The FDA warns that such products may contain too much, too little, or none of the advertised ingredient. A bargain price for an unknown substance is not necessarily a bargain.

The Affordability Conundrum

The economics of GLP-1 drugs will continue to change. Competition is increasing. Pills are entering the market. Manufacturers are lowering cash prices. Medicare coverage is expanding. Insurers and employers are reconsidering their policies. Companies such as Weight Watchers are building medical and behavioral programs around the drugs.

People of some means who need these drugs can generally find a way to obtain them. Paying $200 per month, $300 per month, or even $500 per month is not pleasant, but it may be manageable—particularly when weighed against the potential health benefits.

But millions of Americans cannot afford an additional $100 per month, much less $300 per month or more. For them, the conundrum is stark: they cannot afford to pay for the drugs, but given the health consequences of obesity, diabetes, and related conditions, they may not be able to afford not to take them.

That tension will not disappear. It will likely create increasing pressure on the federal government, state governments, insurers, employers, and drug manufacturers to reduce prices or create additional ways for lower-income patients to obtain these medicines. The Medicare GLP-1 Bridge is one early response. More are likely to follow, and that pressure may continue pushing prices downward.

Living well and aging gratefully require us to be good stewards of our health and our financial resources. GLP-1 drugs may create enormous value for many people. The challenge now is making sure that their value is not reserved primarily for those who can afford the price of admission.

As always, be well, and age gratefully,

Chris

PS If you enjoy this post and the blog, consider telling your friends and sharing with your social media.  If you like it, they will probably like it, too.

Reflection

During COVID, while a lot of people working from home were gaining weight, I adopted a couple of simple rules. One was my “one plate per meal rule”—no seconds and, usually, no dessert. The other was walking 10,000 steps a day. Neither was particularly complicated, but both changed my behavior in ways that have lasted.

The behavior modification continues with my walking and small plates.  More than a year ago, I stopped ordering my usual Jack Daniel’s or other bourbon drinks with dinner, substituting a single beer or no alcohol at all. Carol and I also became tired of ordering two restaurant meals, taking home far too much food, and eventually throwing most of it away. So, we changed how we order. Today, we might split a meal and add a salad, or order two or three appetizers instead. We have virtually ended wasted food and, incidentally, reduced what it costs us to dine out.

Neither of us takes a GLP-1. We made these changes for practical reasons. This story is not about us, but our experience may offer a small preview of something much larger.

What happens when tens of millions more people gain greater control over their appetites?

Constraint Versus Desire

Most diets depend upon constraint.

“I’d like another piece, but I shouldn’t have it.”

GLP-1 drugs introduce something potentially different. Many users describe a reduction in “food noise.” Instead of continually exercising willpower against the desire for another helping, they may simply not want it as much. A 2026 survey of adults using injectable semaglutide for weight management found substantial reductions in reported food-noise scores after treatment, although the researchers emphasized that prospective research is still needed. (INFORM survey, 2026.)

“I’d like another piece, but I shouldn’t,” becomes “I don’t particularly want another piece.”

That is a profound distinction, and its implications extend well beyond the bathroom scale. Imagine tens of millions of Americans eventually using increasingly effective, less expensive, and easier-to-take GLP-1 medications. They eat less. Portions get smaller. They snack less often. Some may drink less alcohol. Grocery baskets change, restaurant orders change, and household spending patterns begin to change with them.

But the money not spent on a second entrée, dessert, or cocktail does not vanish. Neither does the human capacity for desire. Once new eating habits become normal rather than something requiring constant discipline, people have both money and attention available for other things.

Reduced desire for one thing may create room for desiring something else. The important economic question may not be what disappears, but what replaces it.

GLP-1 then becomes an economic story rather than simply a pharmaceutical or healthcare story.

We Don’t Stop Wanting Things

Human desire is not, in my experience, fixed. Quite the opposite. As our needs are satisfied, we often develop new desires, and businesses are extraordinarily effective at helping us discover them.

Consider the proliferation of BOGO promotions—buy one, get one free. Retailers are not simply lowering the price of groceries. They are encouraging us to take home more. Consumers often buy something they would not otherwise have bought because the second one is “free.” By the next visit, the product is likely not BOGO anymore. But many consumers try it, some like it, and new purchasing habits are born. Once the habit is established, the next purchase may occur at the regular price.

BOGO is a small example of something businesses do remarkably well. Restaurants encourage an appetizer or dessert. For years, McDonald’s employees famously asked, “Want fries with that?” Retailers suggest another item at checkout. Hotels offer another night or an upgraded room. Streaming services encourage another subscription. Businesses continually give customers one more opportunity to add something to the order.

For decades, businesses and technology have steadily reduced the friction between wanting something and buying it. Credit cards removed the need for cash. Amazon removed the trip to the store. Smartphones put the store in our pockets. Algorithms learned what might tempt us next.

AI will take that process further. Now introduce something else into the equation: pharmacology that gives millions more consumers greater control over one of our most fundamental appetites. The result, I suspect, will not be a consumer economy in permanent retreat.

It will be a consumer economy that changes direction.

Follow the Spending

I do not view GLP-1s as a bearish economic story. Some businesses will undoubtedly face challenges as consumer behavior changes. Others will find new opportunities. Restaurants built around enormous portions may have to adjust. Snack-food manufacturers may sell fewer calories. Alcohol consumption could decline. Grocery baskets will change. Businesses that have prospered by encouraging consumers to eat or drink a little more will have to figure out what their customers now value.

But businesses adapt, and consumers do too. Restaurants can offer smaller portions and better food. Food companies can reformulate products. Consumers who spend less on calories may spend more on higher-quality food. Someone who loses fifty pounds needs new clothes. Someone who feels better may travel more, play golf again, join a gym, or spend money on experiences that previously seemed difficult or unappealing.

This is why focusing exclusively on industries threatened by GLP-1 adoption misses half the story. Every dollar not spent on excess food remains available to be saved, invested, or spent somewhere else. The more interesting question is not which companies lose when consumers eat less, but which businesses benefit when consumers make different choices.

That question becomes even more interesting when considering GLP-1s alongside AI. GLP-1s may alter some forms of human desire and behavior at precisely the same time AI gives businesses unprecedented ability to identify changing preferences and to develop, price, and market products around them. There will be rough edges—quite a few—but consumers and businesses have an impressive history of adaptation.

The Second Derivative

The first-order effect of GLP-1s is obvious: people lose weight and, in many cases, become healthier. The second-order effects are more interesting. People behave differently because they eat differently. They make different decisions because they feel differently. Businesses respond to those decisions, capital follows the businesses, new products emerge, and old business models adjust or disappear.

For most of modern economic history, businesses could treat human appetite, for food, for example, as something relatively constant, at least in the short run. They competed aggressively to capture bigger shares of it and became remarkably good at stimulating it. GLP-1s challenge that assumption in a way that diets, exercise programs, and public-health campaigns generally have not.

Appetite itself may now be becoming a variable.

We do not yet know how large that variable will become, how many behaviors it will affect, or where the dollars released by those changes will ultimately go. But with many more millions of people potentially gaining a degree of control over appetite that previously required considerable discipline, the effects are unlikely to stop at the dinner table.

GLP-1s won’t just change waistlines.  They’ll change markets.

Until next time, be well, and age gratefully.

Chris

PS. If you like this post and this blog, feel free to share it with your friends and on your social media and be sure to subscribe if you are here for the first time.

Sources:

INFORM Survey, “Retrospective Assessment of Food Noise Changes After Initiation of Injectable Semaglutide for Weight Management in the USA,” 2026. PubMed: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/42217114/

My sister has lost about 45 pounds taking one of the new GLP-1 drugs. More importantly, she is improving her health significantly. I know several other people taking them as well.

I began to look, and if the statistics I found are anywhere close to right, I know quite a few more people who simply have not mentioned they are taking them. And so do you.

That got my attention.

I started looking into GLP-1 drugs and quickly realized that something much bigger is happening here than I had appreciated. I suspect many of you already know more about them than I did. But for the rest of us, this seems like a trend worth investigating.

What is GLP-1?

GLP-1 stands for glucagon-like peptide-1, a hormone our bodies naturally produce after we eat. Among other things, it helps regulate blood sugar, slows digestion, and sends signals to the brain that we have had enough to eat. GLP-1 and GIP, or glucose-dependent insulinotropic polypeptide, are both incretin hormones released after meals and involved in glucose control and satiety. (PubMed).

The drugs we often hear about, including Ozempic, Wegovy, Mounjaro, and Zepbound, amplify these biological signals. Semaglutide, the active ingredient in Ozempic and Wegovy, is a GLP-1 receptor agonist. Tirzepatide, sold as Mounjaro and Zepbound, goes a step further by acting on both GLP-1 and GIP. (PubMed). Now that I am paying attention, I noticed an advertisement for Zepbound on television last evening.

That is a lot of vocabulary, and I had to look up everything to paint this picture. I am still assimilating it.

GLP-1 is recognized as a satiety signal that slows gastric emptying and helps reduce food intake.The result for many people using GLP-1 drugs is dramatically reduced hunger and food intake. (PubMed).

But how well do they really work?

This is where I began to understand why these drugs are different from the endless parade of diets and weight-loss programs we have all seen over the years.

In a major clinical trial, people taking semaglutide lost an average of about 15% of their body weight over 68 weeks. In another large trial, people receiving the highest dose of tirzepatide lost an average of about 20.9% of their body weight over 72 weeks. (PubMed; SURMOUNT-1).

For perspective, for a person weighing 250 pounds, a 15% loss is about 38 pounds, and a 20.9% loss is more than 52 pounds.

These statistics are averages, not promises, and individual results may and will vary considerably. But we are talking about weight loss on a scale that simply was not typical of earlier medications.

These results strike me as fundamentally different from Atkins, Weight Watchers, and the many other approaches we have watched come and go. Those programs primarily ask us to change what and how much we eat and perhaps exercise along the way.

GLP-1 medications work differently by altering some of the biological signals affecting hunger and satiety.

GLP-1 drugs do not eliminate the importance of good nutrition and exercise. But they accomplish something that diet and exercise alone have not for many people: they change some of the biological signals that influence hunger and how much we eat. The NIDDK also emphasizes that weight-management medicines should support healthy eating and physical activity, not replace them. (NIDDK).

In other words, rather than simply asking people to resist hunger and eat less, these drugs make them feel less hungry and satisfied with less food. That has certainly been my sister’s experience. This may help explain why the weight loss seen in clinical trials has been so much greater than with earlier medications and typical lifestyle interventions. (NIDDK).

We are talking about more than just looking thinner and being healthier.

The most important thing I learned is that the medical story has moved well beyond weight loss.

The FDA has approved Wegovy to reduce the risk of cardiovascular death, heart attacks, and strokes in certain people who have cardiovascular disease and are overweight or obese. The FDA also approved Zepbound for moderate-to-severe obstructive sleep apnea in adults with obesity, and Wegovy for MASH, a serious form of fatty liver disease. (U.S. Food and Drug Administration; FDA; FDA).

So these are increasingly becoming drugs for diseases associated with obesity, not simply drugs for losing weight.

How many people are taking them?

This may have surprised me most.

A Gallup survey conducted this year found that 11% of American adults say they are currently taking GLP-1 medications for weight loss, up from only 3% in 2024. About 15% say they have used them at some point. (Gallup.com).

Another survey, conducted by KFF, looked more broadly at GLP-1 use for weight loss, diabetes, and other conditions and found that 12% of American adults were currently taking one of the drugs. This study also examined GLP-1 use by age, sex, race, affordability, and even political affiliation. We may take a closer look at the KFF study later. (KFF).

Whether 11% or 12% of adults are taking GLP-1 medications, that adds up to roughly 30 million adult Americans. And millions more have tried them in the past.

Now consider the potential population for usage. The latest CDC data based on measured heights and weights show that about 40% of U.S. adults have obesity, and about 30% of adults are classified as overweight. The point is that the potential scale of future usage is enormous. (CDC; NIDDK).

Where is the catch? There are several.

The most common side effects are gastrointestinal, including nausea, diarrhea, vomiting, and constipation. There are also less common but more serious risks, including gallbladder problems and pancreatitis, and the drugs are not right for everyone. (U.S. Food and Drug Administration). You should have seen the potential side effects shown in the Zepbound advertisement I mentioned!

Cost and insurance coverage remain significant issues. In KFF’s 2025 survey, about half of users said the drugs were difficult to afford. (KFF). The older friends I know without insurance other than Medicare have been paying about $300 per month for their weekly injections. Under a new Medicare Bridge Plan, which is set to last until December 2027 and was opened this month, some will be able to obtain their drugs for $50 per month. My sister entered this plan this month.

The Trump administration is working to make these drugs more accessible and less expensive for many Americans, and recently announced the Bridge Plan and the results of other efforts in this vein.

There is also the question of what happens when people stop using the drugs.

In one follow-up study of semaglutide users, participants regained about two-thirds of the weight they had lost within a year after stopping use of the drug. That suggests that for many people, GLP-1 treatment may be less like going on a diet and more like taking medication for high blood pressure or high cholesterol. In other words, it is not a one-time thing for a period, but a long-term treatment for a chronic condition. (PubMed).

GLP-1 drugs have been used in diabetes treatment for years, so they are not new. However, we lack decades of experience with this many people using the newer drugs at the current scale for weight management. There is still much to learn. (PubMed).

I do not come away from my brief investigation into GLP-1 drugs and their use thinking they are miracle drugs without drawbacks. They have real side effects, costs, uncertainties, and medical considerations that need to be addressed with physicians.

But I do come away thinking the GLP-1 phenomenon is quite different from any other weight-loss fad I have ever seen.

Something significant is happening.

Millions of Americans are already taking these medications. They are producing levels of weight loss that would have seemed extraordinary from a drug just a few years ago. Their known medical benefits are expanding. And the population that could potentially benefit from them is enormous.

Which leaves me with another set of questions.

What happens if these drugs continue to improve? What happens if they become easier and less expensive to take? What happens if tens of millions more people use them — and eat less, weigh less, and become healthier?

What is already changing? And what else might change in the coming years?

These are questions I want to think about.

Before closing, let’s return to the beginning of this post for a bit about one person’s experience so far.

My sister tells me she has felt hungry all her life. Now, for the first time, she feels like she has control over her eating rather than food having control over her. She is grateful for the weight she has lost, but even more grateful for what it is already doing for her health and how she feels.

There is still a great deal we do not know about GLP-1 drugs. But for her, at least, they have already provided another reason to age gratefully.

Until next time, be well, and age gratefully,

Chris

PS. If you like this blog, please share it with your friends and on your social media.  They will probably like it as well.  Thanks!

Introduction

In Sunday School this past Sunday, our teacher’s lesson was titled “Jesus Teaches Us Not to Worry.” It was based on Matthew 6:25-34. The lesson carried special meaning because our teacher had recently been hospitalized with a very serious medical condition and he legitimately had lots to worry about. During his recovery, he felt convicted to teach on worry, and these verses became the foundation of his lesson.

There is something different about hearing a lesson on worry from someone who has had every reason to worry. His words were not theoretical. They came from experience, and that gave them weight.

As he taught, I was reminded of two observations by Mark Twain. One was, “I’ve had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened.” The other was, ‘Worry is like paying interest on a debt you don’t owe.” Twain had a remarkable way of using humor to expose profound truth.

Jesus’ teaching, however, goes even deeper than Twain’s wit.

Faith and Action

Sometimes when people say, “Don’t worry,” what they really seem to mean is, “Don’t do anything. Just sit back and hope everything works out.” I do not believe that was what Jesus intended.

In Matthew 6:26 He tells us:

Look at the birds. They do not plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And are you not far more valuable to him than they are?

The heavenly Father does, indeed, provide seeds and flowers and insects and other food that are available to birds.  But they get up every morning and spend most of their days foraging for food.  It does not fall into their proverbial laps.

Family Wisdom

As I listened, I also thought about my mother. When I worried about something – or sometimes when she found me sitting around doing nothing – she had a line she liked to use. “Chrissie boy,’ she would say (and she was the only one who could call me that), “Don’t just sit there like a bump on a log. Do something! Dig a hole. Cover it up. But do something, even if it is wrong!”

It makes me smile every time I think about it. She was not encouraging bad judgment. She was teaching me that action is usually better than standing still. You learn something by taking the first step. Sitting and worrying seldom teaches us anything except how to worry more.

My father had a similar philosophy, though he said it differently. Whenever I seemed to be wishing things were different, he would say, “Son, wish in one hand and put a baseball in the other (and he actually said it a bit more graphically) – and see which hand you have the most in.” His point was plain enough. Wishing does not change reality. Neither does worrying.

I have come to believe that wishing and worrying are close cousins. Worry is often wishing that reality were different. We wish our health were better, our finances were stronger, our businesses were growing faster, our children made different decisions, or the economy was more predictable. Those wishes are understandable, but they do not move us any closer to a solution. Action does.

The Next Season

As we move into what I often call the “next season” of life, our worries do not necessarily disappear. In some ways, they simply change. Earlier in life we worried about building a career, raising children, paying the mortgage, or growing a business. Later we may worry about retirement, succession planning, our health, a spouse’s health, whether we have saved enough, whether our children or grandchildren will be okay, or what legacy we will leave behind.

Those are legitimate concerns. But worrying about them does not improve them.

Planning might. Having an honest conversation might. Making the phone call you have been putting off might. Scheduling the doctor’s appointment might. Meeting with your financial advisor might. Beginning a succession plan might.

Each of these is an action. Each moves us a little farther down the road than worry ever could.

I have also noticed that worry and procrastination often travel together. We postpone doing something because we are uncertain, uncomfortable, or afraid of making the wrong decision. Then, because we have postponed it, we worry even more. It becomes a merry-go-round that never seems to stop.

The way off that ride is usually the same first step my mother encouraged me to take years ago: do something. Not necessarily everything. Just something.

Conclusion

As I listened in Sunday School, it occurred to me that Jesus was not giving us permission to be passive. He was inviting us to stop carrying burdens that accomplish nothing and instead do the work that lies before us today.

The birds in His illustration do not spend the day sitting on a branch worrying about where the next worm will come from. Our Heavenly Father provides for them, but they still leave the nest every morning. They search. They work. They trust.

There is a lesson in this for all of us. Whether you are twenty-five and beginning your career or seventy-five and thinking about what comes next, worry is never a very good strategy.

We cannot eliminate every concern. Nor should we. Some concerns remind us of our responsibilities. But we can decide whether today’s concern becomes today’s action or tomorrow’s worry.

I have a feeling both my parents would approve of that conclusion. And I suspect my Sunday School teacher would too.

Don’t worry.  Do Something!

And, as always, be well, and age gratefully,

Chris

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More than forty years ago, my friend and mentor, Wally Loewenbaum, gave me a piece of advice that has stayed with me ever since.  I’ve written about this before, but this post offers a new perspective.

If you have momentum, do everything in your power to maintain it. If you do not have it, do everything in your power to regain it.

At the time, he was talking about building a business. It was practical advice from someone who understood that success rarely comes from a single breakthrough. It comes from keeping things moving. One customer leads to another. One referral creates the next opportunity. Confidence grows with success, and success breeds more confidence. Momentum compounds.

I took Wally’s advice to heart.

Over the years, I worked to build momentum in what eventually became Mercer Capital. Along the way, I developed a career that allowed me to become known nationally in the field of business valuation. Looking back, I can see that very little of that happened because of isolated moments of brilliance. It happened because of steady forward movement over many years.

Momentum built the business. Momentum built the career.

For a long time, I thought that was the lesson.

Now I think Wally was teaching me something much larger.

The reason the lesson has become more important is that momentum and inertia are always competing for control of our lives. The contrast is useful because it helps make the idea visible. Side by side, the difference becomes hard to miss.

Aging Changes the Meaning of Momentum

It took me a few years in semi-retirement to realize that Wally’s advice still applied. Only the object of the momentum had changed.

When we are young, momentum helps us build a business and a career. When we are older, momentum helps us build a life. The goal is no longer simply climbing another ladder. The goal is continuing to move—purposefully, steadily, and with intention.

That shift matters. After a certain point, the question is no longer only, “What am I trying to build?” It becomes, “Who am I becoming?”

George Burns Had It Right

George Burns, who lived to be one hundred years old, once quipped, “I don’t believe in dying. It’s been done. I’m working on a new exit. Besides, I can’t die now. I’m booked.”

Like many great comedians, Burns wrapped profound wisdom in humor. Those two words—“I’m booked”—capture something important. Forward commitments create forward motion.

Keep Booking the Future

When we have something to anticipate, somewhere to go, someone to serve, or something to finish, tomorrow begins pulling us toward it. That is why one of the best ways to fight inertia is to keep booking the future.

Plan the trip. Commit to writing the next article. Say yes to teaching the class. Volunteer for the church project. Schedule dinner with friends. Mentor someone younger. Visit the grandchildren. Start reading the book you have been meaning to read. Plant next year’s garden.

None of these activities is remarkable by itself. Together, they create a life that keeps moving.

Motivation Comes and Goes. Momentum Carries You.

People often wait for motivation before they begin. Momentum works differently. Motivation comes and goes. Momentum carries us on the days when motivation is nowhere to be found.

That is true in business. It is just as true in life.

Three Seasons

Looking back, I can see three seasons of momentum in my own life. First came building a career. Then, alongside that career, came building Mercer Capital. Today I find myself in a third season—building a life of value.

Now, I am being intentional about building momentum for what I call the “after sixty-five” years—a season of transition into new priorities and opportunities.

Americans are crossing that sixty-five year threshold into the next season at the rate of about ten thousand per day, and will continue to do so for many years.  Whether you crossed that threshold years ago or are only approaching it, momentum still matters.

A Life of Value

What is a life of value?  I can only speak for myself.

A life where writing still matters. Where learning still matters. Where family matters even more. Where faith deepens. Where mentoring becomes a privilege. Where friendships are cultivated instead of assumed. Where there is always another project, another trip, another conversation, another opportunity to encourage someone else.

The older I get, the less interested I am in speed. I am interested in movement. Slow, steady, purposeful movement.

I suspect Wally would smile at that.

He thought he was teaching me how to build a successful business. In hindsight, he was also teaching me how to keep living.

His advice has never been more relevant. If you have momentum, protect it. If you have lost it, do not wait for inspiration to magically appear. Take one small step. Then another. Momentum has a remarkable way of finding those who are willing to move.

Because growing older is inevitable.  Growing stagnant is optional.

Today, I am grateful to have momentum.  And, like Wally advised, I intend to do everything I can to maintain it.

How about you?

Until next time, be well, and age gratefully.

Chris

Mercer Capital was born in June of 1982. At that time, I made what I now think of as my first good business decision. I decided to put the business first. Let’s call it my “business first” decision.

My goal was simple. I wanted to treat Mercer Capital as a business rather than as a vehicle to support my personal lifestyle. That meant spending first on what the business needed, and accepting whatever remained as my personal income or return on the business.

From the beginning, I wanted to build a company that created value for clients, employees, and owners. Looking back, that decision shaped much of the next four decades. It encouraged long-term thinking, disciplined reinvestment, and a focus on building an enduring enterprise rather than maximizing current income and distributions for owners in the short run.

For many years, I assumed that way of thinking would always serve me well. It did. But it has taken me more than forty years to realize that every important decision has its season. The decision to put the business first was exactly the right one in 1982. It is no longer the decision I need to make.

The transition began during the early months of the COVID-19 pandemic. Mercer Capital was approached by a large financial institution interested in acquiring the firm. While those discussions ultimately did not lead to a sale, they accelerated conversations about my ownership transition through our ESOP.  Management succession had occurred years earlier when Matt Crow became President in 2009. What remained was completing my ownership transition.

As part of that process, I moved from being an employee to serving as a contractor. I expected that change would naturally lead to slowing down. It didn’t. I often described myself as “semi-retired,” but I wasn’t acting like it.

Old habits are remarkably persistent. Everyone at Mercer Capital encouraged me to slow down, but changing decades of routines proved much harder than I ever thought.

By early 2024, I found myself writing less about business valuation and more about walking, health, motivation, and aging. In hindsight, that shift reflected where my heart and mind were already moving.

The real turning point came in early 2025. I decided to separate my monthly living expenses from any personal income generated at Mercer Capital. My financial adviser began depositing a monthly amount from my investment portfolio into my operating account, while any income from Mercer Capital flowed directly back into my portfolio.

Looking back, that wasn’t primarily a financial decision. It was a psychological one. It finally broke my mental dependence on Mercer Capital as the source of my monthly cash flow. Once that happened, I found it much easier to think differently about how I wanted to spend my time.

Only then did I begin to recognize what my second important decision really was. If the first decision had been “business first,” this one was “living value first.” Instead of asking what the business needed from me, I began asking how I could best use the freedom the business had given me.

The journey from “business first” to “living value first” has been much deeper than simply slowing down or retiring. It has been a transition of identity.

For more than forty years, my identity was wrapped up in building Mercer Capital into a national business valuation firm. The psychological shift wasn’t just about income—it was about recognizing that my purpose needed to expand beyond Mercer Capital.

This may be the most important idea in this essay. For many aging professionals and business owners, the transition from building value to living value is ultimately a transition of identity.

I’ve often told younger colleagues that one of the keys to financial independence is to spend less than you earn and productively invest the difference. I’m grateful I followed that advice over many years. It created the freedom to make this second decision.

Today I believe I have finally (well, almost finally) settled into semi-retirement. I continue to work with a handful of long-standing clients and enjoy projects that are especially interesting or challenging. Most new opportunities are better served by the outstanding professionals at Mercer Capital. I still enjoy speaking and writing about valuation when interesting opportunities arise, but I no longer feel compelled to do so.

In April 2026, I rebranded ChrisMercer.net from a business valuation blog into “From Building Value to Living It – Aging Gratefully.” Looking back, the new title was less a rebranding than an acknowledgment of where my life was already headed.

This week Carol and I will fly to Raleigh to spend time with my best childhood friend and his wife. We’ll then drive to Greenville for a nephew’s wedding, visit family, and spend time wandering around eastern North Carolina.

Not long ago, I might have talked myself out of making that trip because there was work to do – or even if things weren’t so pressing.

Today it feels like exactly the right thing to do. Forty years ago, I probably wouldn’t have recognized that as progress. Today I do.

Perhaps that’s what living value first really means – not necessarily completely stopping the work of creating value, but making sure we also take the time to live it.   And we can do this whether retired or not.

Until next time, be well, and age gratefully,

Chris