The former gym bunny I used to be has returned to explain why losing weight is only the beginning.

I have shed 24 kilograms.

This sounds impressive because it is impressive. Twenty-four kilograms is roughly the weight of a Labrador, a small Israeli child, or one of those suitcases people bring back from international travel containing items that were perfectly available in Israel but somehow felt more important overseas.

There is substantially less of me than there was a year ago.

The culprit is Mounjaro.

Now, before anyone starts sharpening their opinions, let me save them the trouble. Yes, I know. Half the world believes these medications are a miracle. The other half believes they are cheating. Humanity has spent thousands of years searching for a cure for obesity, and when one finally arrived, our first instinct was to argue about whether people were allowed to use it. This seems entirely consistent with the species that invented social media and then wondered why everyone became anxious.

The truth is that Mounjaro has been astonishingly effective. The clinical trials were impressive enough that pharmaceutical executives were probably high-fiving each other behind closed doors while attempting to maintain expressions of scientific neutrality. Participants lost significant percentages of their body weight. Blood........

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