Richard Simmons, fitness guru who mixed laughs and sweat, dies at 76

Richard Simmons, television's hyperactive court jester of physical fitness who built a mini-empire by urging people to exercise and eat better, died Saturday. He was 76.

Richard Simmons, television’s hyperactive court jester of physical fitness who built a mini-empire in his trademark tank tops and short shorts by urging the overweight to exercise and eat better, died Saturday. He was 76.

Los Angeles police and fire departments say they responded to a Los Angeles house where a man was declared dead from natural causes. Neither provided a name, but The Associated Press matched the address and age to Simmons through public records.

TMZ was the first to report his death. It has also been reported by other outlets citing unnamed Simmons representatives.

Simmons, who revealed a skin diagnosis in March 2024, had lately dropped out of sight, sparking speculation about his health and well-being.

Simmons was a former 268-pound teen who shared his hard-won weight-loss tips as host of the Emmy-winning daytime “Richard Simmons Show,” author of best-selling books and the diet plan Deal-A-Meal, as well as opening exercise studios and starring in millions of exercise videos, including the successful “Sweatin’ to the Oldies” line.

“My food plan and diet are just two words — common sense. With a dash of good humour,” he told The Associated Press in 1982. “I want to help people and make the world a healthier, happy place.”

Simmons embraced mass communication to get his message out, even as he eventually became the butt of jokes for his outfits and flamboyant flair. He was a guest on TV shows led by Merv Griffin, Mike Douglas and Phil Donahue. But David Letterman would prank him and Howard Stern would tease him until he cried. He was mocked in Neil Simon’s “The Goodbye Girl” on Broadway in 1993, and Eddie Murphy put on white makeup and dressed like him in “The Nutty Professor,” screaming “I’m a pony!”

Asked if he thought he could motivate people by being silly, Simmons answered, “I think there’s a time to be serious and a time to be silly. It’s knowing when to do it. I try to have a nice combination. Being silly cures depression. It catches people off guard and makes them think. But in between that silliness is a lot of seriousness that makes sense. It’s a different kind of training.”