The Real Richard Simmons: 'Still Doin' It' at 60

Old school aerobic icon says he'll "hang it up when everyone is healthy."

February 23, 2009, 1:33 PM

Feb. 23, 2009— -- Some people might call it remarkable that Richard Simmons, the outrageous, animated, flamboyant clown prince of American fitness, hasn't reshaped his irrepressibly elfin appeal for decades.

"People treat me like family, 'cause I've always treated them like family," Simmons said. "My father said something years ago: 'Know no strangers.' Everyone in this world is somehow connected. So why not just be nice to everybody."

Clad in his uniform -- Dolfin shorts and tank top encrusted with Swarovski crystals -- the reliably overwrought Simmons is one face Americans recognize.

Even those who haven't seen his infomercials or his more than 50 workout tapes and DVDs -- his latest called "Party Off the Pounds" -- figure they already know Simmons, thanks to his many television appearances.

But there's a side of Simmons that far fewer people are familiar with. Every morning he heads down to the office in his West Hollywood home, picks up the telephone and calls the morbidly obese.

"Hey, it's Richard Simmons calling, how are you," he said, talking to a woman who, at 5 feet 8 inches, weighs 265 pounds. "She's been up and down so many times I can't even tell you. Up and down so many times."

These people, or their loved ones, have reached out to Simmons, via e-mail or in person. To them, he seeks to bring hope and self-esteem. And he doesn't try to sell them anything, except the value of diet and exercise.

"I call them to check up on them," he said. "I call them to tell them how beautiful they are. I tell them they are successful and they're worth it. I tell them about having more self-respect. I sing to them."

Outsiders may question Simmons' sincerity, wondering whether he really feels that way about these people or whether he's just saying it to make them feel better.

"I don't have to work anymore," he said. "I don't have to make a phone call anymore, I don't have to do one more leg lift. This is my passion and this is my mission. And I've never deterred from it. And people have watched me over the years do what I do and you can't fake this. Either you really care about what you do or you don't. ... I eat, breath, sleep, do everything for this, and it makes me happy."

From 'Another Planet' to an Advocate

Today, Simmons is a self-described "court jester" on the national scene. But before the age of personal trainers and gastric-bypass surgery; before the heyday of yoga, Pilates and spinning classes; before Jane Fonda's workout tapes, Simmons was 1-2-3-4-ing his way to fitness fame.

"Look at Dick Simmons," he said. "60 [and] still doin' it, buddy."

"Dickie" Simmons (born Milton Teagle Simmons) grew up large but not in charge in New Orleans, surrounded by the caloricly colossal Creole restaurants of the French Quarter. Before a nurse's intervention got him healthy and looking trim, he'd put away enough to become a 250-pound teen.

"I did many things," he said of his dieting struggles. "Diet pills in elementary school, throwing up four, five times a day, taking 30 laxatives a day to go to the bathroom. Starving and not eating for weeks. Trying to be accepted. Trying to change what you look like.

"I just, you know, was so different it seemed than anyone else. I always thought I was from a different planet. ... I just stayed by myself as a kid and played 45 [rpm] records in my bedroom and lip-synced to all the people that had famous songs."

It was the memory of the boy he once was that helped to drive the project closest to his heart: his Fit Kids physical education crusade, designed to get physical education classes back into the public schools. It has given him a new emphasis on teaching kids.

"I do not want any child in America to have my childhood because it was taken away from me because I just wasn't good enough; well I am good enough now," Richard Simmons told Congress last year while delivering an emotional testimony on childhood obesity.

"I have to tell you I was a bit afraid that they would laugh at me," Simmons said. "'Cause they see me on television and they see me crazy and silly, and I wanted to make sure that they knew the other side of Richard Simmons and I put a suit on when I went to Washington and people told me I looked good. And I sounded good and I made sense. And that is going to be my legacy for the rest of my life."

Richard Simmons: A Solitary Life?

For all the fame, however, his personal life appears to be a solitary one.

"Do I get lonely sometimes," he said. "Sure, you're on the road for X amount of days. I'm pretty much a home body."

As for being in love, Simmons said, "I'm not so much in love with a person as I am in love with what I do," he said. "No one should feel sorry for Richard Simmons because I think I am one of the most loved people in the whole world."

And in a city where high-priced clubs and exercise gurus cater to the well-to-do looking to drop those last 5 to 10 pounds, a very different crowd pays the $12 fee to work out with Richard Simmons.

Twice weekly, Simmons still teaches his signature aerobics class at Slimmons, the Beverly Hills studio he founded way back in 1974. He sees no end in sight.

"I will hang it up when everyone is healthy, when everyone is a perfect ideal weight," he said. "And then I'll open up restaurants. Huge Italian feasts. ... When people don't need me anymore and God has asked me to come back. That's when I will stop."