We have all heard some version of the saying: We can’t control what happens to us. But we do have at least some control over how we respond.

It is easy to say. It is considerably harder to live.

Michael J. Fox and his family have been living a particularly difficult version of that idea for more than three decades. Fox was 29 years old and near the height of his career when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in 1991. He had married actress Tracy Pollan only a few years earlier. They had a young son and a future that surely looked very different from the one suddenly placed before them.

Nothing about the diagnosis was under their control. What happened next was at least partly up to them.

What Happens Next?

Fox did not immediately become the optimistic public face of Parkinson’s disease that we know today. His first response was considerably messier and more human. He has spoken openly about denial and about drinking heavily as he struggled with what the diagnosis meant.

Over time, however, his response changed. He continued acting, disclosed his diagnosis publicly in 1998 and, in 2000, established The Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson’s Research. What had begun as a devastating private diagnosis gradually became a public purpose.

That did not happen in one dramatic moment. It happened through decisions repeated over years.

There is a temptation when we tell stories like this to make them too neat. Something bad happens. The hero rises to the occasion. Adversity is conquered. Lesson learned.

Real life seldom works that way, and Parkinson’s certainly does not. It is progressive. Fox has lived with it for 35 years. His physical circumstances have continued to change, sometimes severely. His response has therefore required not one decision, but thousands of them.

That may be one reason his story has something to say to the rest of us.

The Family Story Matters

The Michael J. Fox story is not just Michael J. Fox’s story.

One of the most revealing moments came when he told Tracy Pollan about the diagnosis. He has recalled her reaction in these words: “She didn’t blink.”

They had been married only a few years. Their son was small. Neither could know how quickly Parkinson’s would progress or what it would demand of their family. Fox has said that he felt guilt over what Tracy had not bargained for when she married him.

She stayed.

More than that, they built a life together. They raised four children. The disease became part of their family story without being allowed to become the whole story. Fox has credited Tracy repeatedly with sharing the burden while refusing to let Parkinson’s consume everything around it.

That seems important. We often talk about courage, persistence and resilience as though they are individual qualities. Sometimes they are. But sometimes persistence is possible because somebody else is standing there with us. Families can fracture under adversity. This family appears instead to have grown together through it.

That does not make the adversity good. It tells us something about what people can build around circumstances they never would have chosen.

Source: Michael J. Fox Foundation — “Read All About It: Michael J. Fox Reveals His Secret Optimism”

Optimism Gets Tested

Fox has long been associated with optimism. But one reason his version of optimism is interesting is that it has been tested.

In 2018, after surgery to remove a spinal tumor, Fox had to learn to walk again. Then he fell in his home and shattered his arm. He found himself on the floor, unable to reach the telephone, and his famous optimism suddenly seemed inadequate even to him.

That experience became an important part of his 2020 memoir, No Time Like the Future: An Optimist Considers Mortality. The subtitle matters. This is not an optimist pretending mortality does not exist. It is an optimist considering mortality.

Fox began thinking about his late father-in-law, Stephen Pollan, whom he regarded as an important mentor. Pollan had a characteristic response when circumstances were difficult: “It gets better.” Fox remembered something else about him. He found reasons for gratitude even when circumstances were not what he wanted them to be.

From that came one of Fox’s most useful observations: “Gratitude makes optimism sustainable.”

In a lengthy Fresh Air interview, he explained the connection: “With gratitude, you can find a way to be optimistic. If you have no gratitude, you can’t recognize the hope in the circumstance.”

That is different from being grateful for Parkinson’s disease, a broken arm, loss, disappointment or any of the other things that enter our lives without invitation. There is no reason to romanticize adversity.

Gratitude asks a different question: Even in this circumstance, what remains?

A spouse who stays. A family that grows. Work that still has meaning. Friends who show up. An opportunity to help someone else. A purpose that did not exist before the difficulty arrived.

Perhaps that is how gratitude sustains optimism. It does not deny what has been lost. It keeps what has been lost from becoming the only thing we can see.

Source: Fresh Air — Michael J. Fox reflects on life with Parkinson’s and No Time Like the Future

Source: Penguin Random House — No Time Like the Future: An Optimist Considers Mortality

Until the Future Runs Out

Stephen Pollan gave Fox another thought that has stayed with him: “The last thing you run out of is the future.”

It is a remarkable sentence, particularly coming from a man who has spent decades living with a progressive disease. Fox does not know what Parkinson’s will take next. None of us, for that matter, knows what tomorrow will bring.

But until there is no tomorrow, there is a future.

And a future contains choices.

Fox’s choices ultimately extended far beyond learning to live with Parkinson’s himself. The Michael J. Fox Foundation has become the world’s largest nonprofit funder of Parkinson’s research and has directed billions of dollars toward finding better treatments and, ultimately, a cure. His disease became a source of purpose that has affected people he will never meet.

The Foundation’s work has received extraordinary recognition. In 2026, Fox received the Lasker~Bloomberg Public Service Award for his leadership in transforming Parkinson’s research and patient advocacy. The honor recognized not his acting career but what he had done with something he never asked to receive.

That work is still gathering momentum. The Foundation has now funded more than $3 billion in Parkinson’s research and has launched a campaign called “All Grit. No Quit.” Fox says the new campaign aims to raise another $2.5 billion for research. Those are two different figures: the first is what the Foundation has funded to date; the second is what it hopes to raise next. At 65, Fox is still looking ahead, asking what can be done with the future that remains. michaeljfox.org

Purpose compounds.

A decision leads to another decision. Other people become involved. Knowledge grows. Scientists conduct research. Patients volunteer for studies. Donors contribute. One person’s response to an unwanted circumstance becomes something far larger than that person.

Source: The Michael J. Fox Foundation — Our Mission

Source: Lasker Foundation — Michael J. Fox, 2026 Public Service Award

A Lesson Larger Than Parkinson’s

Most of us will never face Parkinson’s disease at age 29 while living in the public eye. But everyone who lives long enough will face things he or she did not choose.

Illness comes. People we love die. Careers change. Plans fail. Our bodies become less cooperative. Abilities we once took for granted become more difficult. Aging itself is a continuing lesson in the limits of control.

The circumstances vary enormously, but the question is much the same: What happens next?

Fox’s story does not tell us that attitude can cure disease or eliminate adversity. It tells us something more credible. We retain some agency in how we meet what happens. We can accept reality without surrendering to it. We can look for something for which to be grateful without pretending that everything is fine. We can continue to find purpose. And we can allow the people who love us to walk alongside us.

Over decades, those choices can compound.

Michael J. Fox did not choose Parkinson’s. Tracy Pollan did not choose to have Parkinson’s enter their marriage. Their children did not choose it either. But together they have spent more than three decades choosing what came next.

Fox is now 65. Parkinson’s is still progressing. He falls. He breaks bones. Ordinary physical tasks have become difficult. There is nothing sentimental about that reality.

Yet there is still a future. And Fox is still finding something to do with it.

That strikes me as a pretty good description of aging gratefully. Not denying what is difficult. Not pretending we control what we do not. Not insisting that everything will work out exactly as we would like.

Rather, recognizing what remains, being grateful for it and doing something worthwhile with whatever future is still ours.

Michael J. Fox is aging gratefully until the future runs out.

So can we.

As always, be well, and age gratefully,

Chris

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I have exercised, off and on, for many years. For nearly seven years, however, I have been a walker.

I began my permanent commitment to walking in December 2019, initially with a goal of 10,000 steps a day. Walking gradually became more than exercise. It became part of my daily routine and, eventually, simply part of the way I live.

I walk at home, when we travel, through airports, around office buildings, on tracks, on beaches, through neighborhoods and on treadmills when necessary. When I am playing regularly, pickleball adds another form of movement and exercise several times a week.

Walking has been very good to me. But I have known for years that walking isn’t everything.

I Knew It

I’ve read plenty about maintaining muscle as we age – about strength training, stretching, flexibility, balance and the ability to keep moving well. I’ve even talked about doing more of those things.

But talking about something isn’t doing it.

Walking was different. I established a habit, and the habit stuck. Strength training never really did. Neither did a regular program for balance, mobility or flexibility.

Perhaps part of the reason was that walking seemed to be working so well. I could walk five miles, play pickleball, travel and climb stairs. I was active. Why mess with success?

There is a pretty good answer to that question: because I am getting older.

I Kept Reading It

The research has not exactly been whispering.

A large 2025 systematic review examined 151 randomized trials involving more than 6,300 older adults. The researchers found that resistance training improved physical function, lean body mass, muscle size and strength. Perhaps more importantly for someone who doesn’t aspire to become a weightlifter, even relatively low volumes of resistance training produced meaningful improvements in physical function. (PubMed)

Balance deserves attention of its own. A newer systematic review examined 423 randomized trials involving almost 34,000 adults aged 60 and older. Eighteen of the 19 exercise approaches studied improved overall balance compared with control groups. Interestingly, stretching by itself showed no clear balance benefit. The evidence increasingly points toward actively training for balance, agility and our responses to instability rather than simply trying to remain limber. (PubMed)

Then there are some intriguing newer findings that go beyond muscles and balance. A study published this month in GeroScience put adults ages 64 to 81 through 12 weeks of explosive lower-body resistance training. The resistance-training group improved objective sleep efficiency and total sleep time and showed a reduction in a marker associated with altered brain energy metabolism.

It was a small study with only 36 participants, so we can’t make too much of it. But it adds to a growing body of research suggesting that resistance exercise may have benefits extending beyond stronger muscles. (Springer Nature)

Other research has reported associations or improvements involving cognition and brain health. A recent meta-analysis of 17 randomized trials found improvements in several measures of cognitive function following resistance exercise, although not every cognitive measure improved. That is encouraging, but it certainly doesn’t mean that lifting weights will prevent dementia. (Frontiers in Psychiatry)

I’ve been reading variations of these findings for years. My mind got the message, but apparently that wasn’t enough.

Then My Body Joined the Conversation

At 78, I’m still active. I walk, play pickleball, and travel frequently. I generally do the things I want to do.

But lately my body has been sending some messages of its own. There are little reminders about strength, flexibility and mobility, along with reminders that balance deserves more attention. Pickleball probably helps maintain leg strength and certainly requires movement that ordinary walking doesn’t provide. But I could use more upper-body strength there as well.

None of this is particularly dramatic. That’s the point. We don’t have to wait for something dramatic to happen before paying attention.

For years, my mind has been reading that strength, power, balance and mobility become increasingly important as we age. I understood the message intellectually. Now my body is telling my mind:

It’s time to listen.

Walking Hasn’t Failed Me

There is an important distinction here. I don’t look back at nearly seven years of walking and conclude that I chose the wrong exercise. Quite the opposite.

Walking may be one of the best decisions I’ve made for my physical stewardship. It has kept me moving and helped me establish an exercise habit that survived work, travel, weather and the inevitable interruptions of life. It has also helped me control my weight, blood pressure, cholesterol and more.  In addition, I think regular walking frees up time for my brain to think.

But walking trains primarily the things required for walking.

Aging asks more of us. We need enough leg strength to rise easily from a chair, enough power to react quickly when we stumble and enough balance to recover when a foot lands somewhere we didn’t expect. We need enough upper-body strength to lift and carry things, and enough mobility to reach, bend and turn comfortably.

YouTube is hardly a peer-reviewed journal, but it is full of physicians, trainers and others extolling the need to be able to get up from the floor unaided, balance on one foot and perform similar tests of strength, balance and mobility.

We want to preserve these capabilities not merely so that we can pass fitness tests. We want them so that we can keep living our lives.

Knowing Isn’t Doing

There may be a broader lesson here than exercise.

Sometimes we know something long before we are ready to act on it. We know we should change a habit, make a phone call, visit a friend or take better care of something—or someone. We can read the evidence, understand it and even agree with it, and still do nothing. Then experience catches up with knowledge.

That seems to be where I am now.

I don’t intend to abandon walking or replace it with some elaborate training regimen. Walking is too deeply embedded in my life, and I enjoy it too much. The goal is simpler: add a little more.

That means some regular strength work, some balance work and some attention to power, mobility and flexibility. Nothing heroic. Just enough to begin training some of the physical capabilities that walking alone doesn’t address.  But I do need to be intentional about these changes.

The challenge, of course, is the same one I faced with walking nearly seven years ago. For at least two years before December 2019, I knew I needed to walk regularly. Making it part of my life was something else entirely. And so it will be with the coming additions to my routine. Like with walking initially. I do need to be intentional about these changes.

I’ve spent nearly seven years teaching my body to keep moving. Maybe it’s time to let my body teach me something in return.

Walking and working on strength, balance, coordination and more are all part of living well and aging gratefully.

As always, be well and age gratefully,

Chris

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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

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Twenty-Five Years Later, It Still Feels Close

Twenty-five years is a long time. It is long enough for a person to grow older, for children who were not yet born to become adults, and for an event that once seemed immediate to become part of history. Yet September 11, 2001 does not feel like history to those of us who lived through it. I still remember exactly where I was when I heard the news, who called, what I saw on television, and the words that came out of my mouth.

The morning began ordinarily. I was in the living room of my condominium in Memphis, organizing what I wanted to take to the office. My phone rang just before 8:00 a.m. Central time. It was my then girlfriend. She asked, “Where are you?” I told her I was in the living room and about to leave for the office. She said, “Turn on the TV.”

I turned it on just after the first American Airlines plane struck the North Tower. We stayed on the phone, watching our respective televisions. Then the second plane hit the South Tower. I remember exactly what I said: “We are at war!” I was mesmerized and sick. It was chaos. Before the morning was over, we would see the Pentagon attacked and learn about the fourth plane crashing near Shanksville, Pennsylvania. The ordinary day had disappeared.

A little after 9:00 a.m., I decided I needed to get to the office. Fortunately, I was in Memphis. We had people from the office who were traveling, as did many businesses. People came in shocked and uncertain. We tried to help those who were stranded find a way home. I called friends whom I knew traveled frequently to make sure they were safe. Beyond that, much of the day is a blur. There was a television in the office, and we watched in disbelief as more details emerged.

Why Some Days Stay With Us

Why do some days remain fixed in memory while others disappear? One reason is that some events change the way we see the world. Pew Research Center reported this month that 83% of American adults who were born before 2001 still remember exactly where they were or what they were doing when they heard the news of September 11. Among those who were at least 10 years old at the time, the figure is 93%. The numbers are striking because memory usually fades with time. This one has not.

For me, September 11 belongs with two other moments that remain fixed: November 22, 1963, when President John F. Kennedy was assassinated, and September 28, 1965, when I learned that my mother had died.

I was fifteen when Kennedy was killed and sitting in a dentist’s chair during a root canal procedure. I remember going home and watching the events unfold on our small black-and-white television. I was sad, but something else happened: I became more aware of the larger world and of the obligation to pay attention to it.

Two years later, at Stetson University, I was called out of class to the office of Dr. Walker, chairman of the Religion Department. I assumed he was going to tell me that my grandmother had died. Instead, he told me that my mother had died. The news shook me to my core. Until then, death had been something I knew about. That day it became personal. It was another point of maturation.

Remembering Versus Knowing

There are other days I know historically rather than personally. December 7, 1941, is one. June 6, 1944, is another. I was not present at Pearl Harbor or on the beaches of Normandy. My understanding of those days comes through books, recordings, photographs, stories and, admittedly, movies. My father was an Army engineer during World War II and helped prepare for the invasion at Normandy, later following combat troops into Europe to support logistics. I know those events mattered. But knowing is different from remembering.

What Should We Pass Along?

That distinction matters as the generations turn over. September 11 is moving from living memory into history. My older daughter, Amanda, born in 1974, remembers it vividly, and we recently talked at length about our memories.  She was in a meeting and missed the early announcements.  Her fiancé called her and told her he was picking her up.  They went to his place and watched television all day and talked with a friend.  She will never forget that day.

My younger children, Zeno and Katherine, were born in 1990 and 1993, and were old enough to remember that something terrible happened, but they experienced it differently. Zeno’s fifth grade teacher somehow revealed the attacks to his class a bit out of school.  The other boys were not told pending being picked up by their parents.  The Headmaster of the school came and asked the boys not to say anything to the other boys.  Zeno took the photo at the bottom of this post at about 11am yesterday, September 11, 2001.

Katherine was not told in school and her mother picked her up.  She remembers a faltering explanation that she got before they picked up Zeno.  They then went to Merl’s Barber Shop, my barber forever, for a haircut for Zeno. Both kids remembered that trip to the barber shop.. I spoke to them at different timesy.

Zeno remembers feeling “weird” and scared.  Katherine remembers being frightened.

It is amazing what we remember when potentially life-changing events occur.

For younger Americans generally, September 11 is increasingly something learned rather than remembered. The question for those of us who remember is what we should pass along.

We certainly remember the destruction and the nearly 3,000 people who died. But I hope we also remember what happened around the destruction: the courage of first responders and ordinary citizens, the service of members of the military, the compassion shown to strangers, and the unusual sense of shared humanity that appeared across the country. For a time, Americans seemed to remember that we were more alike than different.

I remember another part of that period, too. By my mid-fifties, it was not unusual at public gatherings for veterans to be asked to stand for recognition. I would look around at those men and women and feel a shared sense of humanity and a determination that we must do what is necessary to protect the freedoms we have in this country. That feeling has stayed with me.

Today, we have “Thank you for your service!”  And a better overall attitude towards military service than when I got out in late 1974.

History Changes Ordinary Life

September 11 also changed ordinary life. Air travel changed permanently. Security became part of the experience of every flight. My younger children hardly knew what commercial air travel was like before September 11. They were eight and eleven on that day. For those of us who traveled for business, the difference was almost immediate     and lasting. Security has a cost, but so does vulnerability. A free society has to think seriously about both.

Carrying Memory Forward

This anniversary also arrives in the year of America’s 250th anniversary. That coincidence makes me think about the larger role of memory in a nation. We need to remember our history – the parts that make us proud and the parts that make us uncomfortable. Forgetting the bad does not make it better. Remembering it gives us a chance not to repeat it. Remembering the good gives us something worth preserving.

So the question after twenty-five years is not simply whether we remember September 11. Most of us who were there do. The more important question is whether we have remembered what is worth carrying forward. If we have, then memory can become more than nostalgia or grief. It can become wisdom – a way of carrying the lessons of one generation into the lives of the next.

And that is part of living well and aging gratefully.

As always, be well, and age gratefully.

PS If you enjoy this post and blog, pass it along to your friends and social media.  If you like, they will probably like it as well.

Taken by Zeno Mercer, 11am, September 11. 2026

Source Note

Pew Research Center, “9/11 memories remain vivid in the U.S. 25 years later,” September 3, 2026. 

On the way home from church recently, I asked Carol a question out loud that should have occurred to me much earlier.

“I wonder what has happened to Weight Watchers since the arrival of GLP-1 drugs?”

I looked.

WW International, Inc. (WW, and formerly Weight Watchers) has been helping people lose weight for more than 60 years. Its name is nearly synonymous with organized weight loss. Millions of people have counted points, attended meetings, weighed in, encouraged one another, and occasionally looked upon a piece of cheesecake as if it were contraband.

Then came Ozempic, Wegovy, Mounjaro, Zepbound, and the rapidly expanding family of GLP-1 medications.

These drugs did not merely introduce another competing diet. They changed the nature of weight loss. For many people, they reduced the hunger, cravings, and “food noise” that made traditional diets so difficult to sustain.

That development presented Weight Watchers with something considerably more serious than a new competitor. It threatened the underlying assumptions of its business.

A Decline Already Underway

It would be too simple to blame all of Weight Watchers’ problems on GLP-1s.

The company had been struggling for years. The pandemic severely damaged its in-person workshop business. Consumer attitudes toward dieting were changing. Free apps, social media, fitness platforms, and competing programs gave consumers more choices. WW also carried an enormous debt burden.

Annual revenue declined from approximately $1.5 billion in 2018 to $786 million in 2024. The company’s market capitalization, which reportedly exceeded $7 billion in 2018, fell to a tiny fraction of that amount. As of late August 2026, the market capitalization of the reorganized company was approximately $162 million.

GLP-1s did not create every problem. But they accelerated the decline and removed whatever room for complacency remained.

Weight Watchers could criticize the drugs and defend its traditional program. Or it could accept that the market had changed and find a place in the new one.

It chose the latter.

If You Cannot Beat Them…

In 2023, WW acquired Sequence, a telehealth company, for about $106 million. Sequence became Weight Watchers Clinic and gave members access to clinicians who could prescribe weight-loss medications when appropriate.

The move was not subtle. Weight Watchers was no longer merely competing with GLP-1s. It was going to help provide them.

The company now offers three broad levels of service:

• Core, built around the familiar Points program;
• Core+, adding workshops, coaching, and support for people taking GLP-1 medications obtained elsewhere; and
• Med+, combining behavioral support with clinical care and access to prescriptions for qualified members.

So, the Points program has not disappeared. It has become one component of a broader weight-health platform.

Management’s argument is logical. Medication may help people lose weight, but it does not automatically teach them how to eat well, preserve muscle, exercise, or maintain weight over a lifetime. People taking GLP-1s can still benefit from nutrition, accountability, coaching, and community.

In other words, the drugs may reduce the need for traditional dieting while increasing the need for a different kind of support.

Does Hims & Hers Point the Way?

Hims & Hers Health (HIMS) may offer a glimpse of what WW hopes to become.

Hims began as a consumer-oriented telehealth company addressing health conditions that people might hesitate to discuss in a doctor’s office. It created an accessible digital platform, developed recurring relationships with customers, and gradually expanded into additional areas of health and wellness.

Weight management, including GLP-1 medications, became an important part of that platform. Hims reported 2025 revenue of approximately $2.35 billion, up 59%, with more than 2.5 million subscribers. Its weight-loss business alone was expected to generate hundreds of millions of dollars of revenue.

Hims has encountered its own regulatory, competitive, and profitability problems, particularly regarding compounded versions of branded GLP-1 medications. It is hardly a risk-free model. Nevertheless, it demonstrates that consumers will use a digital platform combining clinical access, medication, continuing support, and personalized health services.

WW brings something Hims had to build: a nationally recognized weight-loss brand and six decades of behavioral experience. Hims brings something WW has struggled to create: technological momentum and a broader consumer-health identity.

WW’s opportunity may not be to rebuild the old Weight Watchers. It may be to become a specialized consumer-health platform for weight management—before Hims and others occupy all the available ground.

The Financial Restructuring

The strategic transformation could not solve WW’s accumulated financial burden by itself.

In May 2025, the company entered a prepackaged Chapter 11 proceeding. It emerged approximately seven weeks later after eliminating about $1.15 billion of debt and reducing annual interest expense by roughly $50 million. Lenders and noteholders received 91% of the reorganized company; existing shareholders retained only 9%.

The reorganization saved the operating company. It was considerably less generous to its former shareholders.

Bankruptcy does not cure a weak business. It buys time and removes debt. Management must still build something customers want.

What Do the Numbers Say?

The results so far are mixed.

Total quarterly revenue declined from $206.5 million in the first quarter of 2024 to $162.3 million in the second quarter of 2026. The traditional behavioral business continues to lose subscribers and revenue.

The clinical business, however, is growing rapidly. At June 2026, WW had approximately 197,000 clinical subscribers, up nearly 56% from the prior year. Clinical subscription revenue grew about 30% in the quarter. Its higher-value Core+ behavioral tier also grew, even as total subscribers declined.

For 2026, management forecasts revenue of $620 million to $635 million and Adjusted EBITDA of $105 million to $115 million.

A word of caution is warranted regarding that last measure.

WW defines EBITDA to add back not only interest, taxes, depreciation, and amortization, but also share-based compensation. It then makes further adjustments to arrive at Adjusted EBITDA. Stock-based compensation—including restricted shares, options, or stock appreciation rights—is not costless simply because cash may not leave the company when the expense is recorded. It transfers value to employees and executives through dilution or creates a future cash obligation.

Shareholders pay either way.

The amount is not WW’s largest adjustment, but the presentation illustrates why adjusted earnings should always be examined rather than merely accepted. Adjusted EBITDA can be useful. It can also become a financial version of removing every ingredient from the soup that management finds inconvenient.

The larger point remains: this is not yet a growth story. It is a shrinking company attempting to replace declining legacy revenue with newer, higher-value services while protecting profitability.

Effects Far Beyond Weight Watchers

Weight Watchers is an obvious example of GLP-1 disruption. The less obvious examples may ultimately be more revealing.

If millions of people eat less and become more attentive to their weight and health, the effects will travel far beyond pharmaceutical companies and diet programs. Restaurants, grocery stores, food manufacturers, apparel companies, fitness providers, bariatric surgeons, sleep-apnea businesses, and many others may be affected.

Researchers and corporate executives are beginning to examine these second-order effects, but it is still too early to separate the impact of GLP-1s from inflation, changing consumer preferences, demographic trends, and other influences.

Some businesses will lose revenue. Others will discover new markets. Many may experience both.

Weight Watchers offers an early and unusually visible example because the connection is direct and its public disclosures allow us to watch the transformation unfold.

The Larger Lesson

Weight Watchers had one of the most recognizable brands in weight loss. Yet the market changed quickly enough to help push it into bankruptcy.

The company survived by accepting the new reality, reducing its debt, and attempting to build around the force that disrupted it. It is now trying to combine medication, behavioral science, nutrition, technology, and human support into a single offering.

Whether that effort ultimately succeeds remains to be seen.

But WW has recognized something important: GLP-1 medications may change how people lose weight, but they do not eliminate the need to learn how to live well and to age gratefully.

If Weight Watchers can help people do all three, its next chapter may be more interesting than its last.

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.

Sources for Further Reading

• Weight Watchers quarterly results
• Weight Watchers Chapter 11 restructuring announcement
• Weight Watchers second-quarter 2026 results
• Hims & Hers 2025 results

A few years ago, my daughter Amanda served as executor of her grandmother’s estate. Her grandmother had a will, but she had done little to prepare for what would happen after she died. For several months, Amanda struggled to find assets, accounts, passwords, documents, and all the other information necessary to administer the estate.

We talked often during those months. I heard about the frustrations and the unnecessary detective work. Amanda is also the named executor of my estate, and one day, after dealing with yet another frustration, she looked at me and said:

If you leave a mess like this for me to deal with, I’ll kill you!

We both knew she was kidding. But I also knew she was making a serious point, and I took it seriously.

A Will Isn’t Enough

Most of us know we should have a will. Depending on our circumstances, we may also need living trusts, other trusts, powers of attorney, healthcare directives, beneficiary designations, and other documents. Those things matter and getting them right requires thought and the assistance of qualified attorneys and other advisers.

But Amanda’s experience taught me something else. Having an estate plan and leaving an estate that can actually be administered are two different things. A will may say what should happen to your assets. It doesn’t necessarily tell your executor what those assets are, where they are, how to find them, or whom to call with questions.

There is another issue that may be just as important. If we don’t communicate what we want to happen, we leave a vacuum. Children and other beneficiaries may begin filling in the blanks themselves. Why did Dad do this? What did Mom intend? Is this really what she wanted?

Where intentions are appropriately explained beforehand, conversations can prevent misunderstandings later. Silence leaves room for people to create their own explanations, and those explanations may be very different from what we intended. A good estate plan can distribute assets. Clear communication can sometimes prevent the distribution of misunderstandings along with them.

As an aside, the concept of deciding what shareholders want is similarly important for businesses. I have written and spoken about buy-sell agreements for more than twenty years.  I often say that business owners need to agree on the defining elements of their buy-sell agreements while everyone is alive and healthy.  Reaching agreement may not be easy in the here and now, but it will be virtually impossible when an owner is in the hereafter.

The same is true for our wills and estate planning.  When one is in the hereafter, his or her existing will and planning will define the experience to be had by remaining family members and other gifts or provisions that one might desire to make.

When Several Kinds of Planning Collide

As we pass through the sixties and later of life, several things begin to converge. We may be retiring, semi-retiring, working differently, or figuring out what to do with our days. We need to think realistically about what it will cost to live for however many years remain. We may want to simplify our finances. And we need to decide what should happen to whatever remains when we are gone.

We all know that we will die someday.  Hopefully that will be a day far into the future for you and me.  But the prospect of death isn’t particularly pleasant to contemplate. It is very easy to procrastinate, but that is not good for you or me, and it is certainly not good for our families.

I’ve discovered that preparing for death and dwelling on death are very different things. There is considerable satisfaction in knowing that things are in order.

My attorney gave me a form designed specifically to create a roadmap—assets, accounts, passwords, important contacts, and other information that someone administering an estate might need. Completing something like that takes time and keeping it current requires some discipline. But imagine the alternative: your executor sitting at a desk someday trying to reconstruct your financial life from whatever he or she can find.

Could Someone Step into Your Shoes?

I’m certainly not an estate-planning attorney, so this is not intended to be an estate-planning checklist. But Amanda’s experience and my own preparations suggest some questions worth considering:

1. Who will be responsible when I can’t be? Have I talked with that person about the responsibility?
2. Are my legal documents current? Do they still reflect my family situation, assets, circumstances, and wishes?
3. Could someone identify what I own and find it? That includes bank and investment accounts, retirement assets, real estate, business interests, insurance policies, valuable personal property, and other assets.
4. Could they gain access to my digital life? Passwords, devices, email, online financial accounts, cloud storage, and other digital assets increasingly matter.
5. Would they know whom to call? Attorney, accountant, investment adviser, insurance professional, business associates, and others who can help. With emails and other contact information.
6. Have I communicated my intentions? Where explanation is appropriate, do the people involved understand what I (or you) want to happen and why?
7. Am I leaving unnecessary complexity behind? Old accounts, obsolete documents, scattered records, and years of accumulated financial clutter can all become someone else’s problem.
8. Finally, when did I last review all of this? Getting things in order is not a one-time event. Life changes. Families change. Assets change. Our wishes can change, too.

My work in the estate tax valuation area over many years has revealed estates where one or more of these questions were not timely addressed.  Things can get messy.

Not Everything We Leave Is an Asset

For Christmas in 2023, my children gave me a booklet called Papa, Tell Me Your Story. I took them seriously. Similar books are available on Amazon.com, at bookstores, and elsewhere for Moms, Grandparents, and more.  You can write your responses in the books.  In my case, I extracted the questions and typed my answers.  Consider getting one. Or maybe get books for your parents or grandparents.

By Christmas of 2024, I had written a 34-page “opener,” and they loved it. Thinking about this post reminds me that I have more work to do. Christmas 2026 is a good goal.

That book won’t be listed on an estate inventory and doesn’t need a beneficiary designation. But someday it may be worth more to my children and grandchildren than some of the things that will be listed.

The process outlined here is part of getting our affairs in order. We spend much of our lives accumulating things – assets, experiences, relationships, stories, lessons, and memories. At some point, stewardship begins to mean not only accumulating and managing but also deciding what should happen to them and what we want to leave behind.

Estate planning forces us to think about our death. Estate readiness asks us to think about the people who will still be here when we are gone. That’s a somewhat different perspective, and for me, a more useful one.

Amanda’s warning still makes me laugh. And I’m trying very hard not to leave her a reason to carry it out.

As always, be well, and age gratefully,

Chris

PS  If you enjoy this post and the blog, consider telling your friends and share 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

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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