Life After Mounjaro: Rebalancing My Body, My Mind and My Motivation
Last year, I shared something raw, the beginning of my journey with Mounjaro. That article explored how it helped me take control of my body and mindset during a difficult time. Now, I want to talk about something just as important: life after Mounjaro. Because coming off the medication wasn’t the end of the story. In many ways, it was just the start.
Let’s rewind to last year, a story that wasn’t wrapped in fitness clichés or filtered through social media gloss. It was my honest experience of using Mounjaro, a medication that, at 157kg and 43.5% body fat, helped me feel in control of my body for the first time in years.
The response to that blog post was more than I expected. People recognised themselves in it, in the hope, the frustration, the cautious optimism. It struck a chord because, like so many others, I wasn’t looking for a shortcut. I was looking for a way out of a cycle that had trapped me for too long.
Fast forward to now: I no longer take Mounjaro.
But the story didn’t end when I stopped the injections. In many ways, that’s where it truly began.
A Crash I Didn’t See Coming
What I didn’t share at the time, what I didn’t fully understand until much later, is that while Mounjaro gave me structure and reduced my appetite, it also triggered something unexpected.
A few weeks in, I started feeling low. Not the kind of tired you get from a busy week, but a flatness I couldn’t shake. There was no joy in the small things. Food no longer excited me, but nothing had replaced that feeling. I wasn’t struggling physically, but emotionally, I was numb.
It was during a podcast, something I listened to on a walk just to clear my head, that I heard someone describe dopamine like it was the missing puzzle piece.
They explained it not as a “pleasure chemical,” which is how it’s often oversimplified, but as the anticipation of pleasure. Dopamine is what motivates us to pursue reward, it’s what drives our cravings, our passions, even our productivity. And I realised, right there in the middle of that walk, that food had been my dopamine for years.
The takeaway. The treat. The drink at the end of a stressful day. Even thinking about it gave me a buzz. Mounjaro had removed the appetite, yes, but also the stimulus. And without that, I wasn’t just less hungry, I was emotionally starved. It wasn’t depression in the clinical sense, but it was a sharp drop in stimulation. That realisation hit hard.
Redirecting the Reward
The turning point came with a bike ride. A simple one. But afterwards, I felt something, a flicker of that same drive. Not the spike that sugar or carbs used to give me, but something earned. Real.
Cycling became my new dopamine. The longer the ride, the better I felt. I craved the rhythm, the effort, the clarity. And that opened a door.
Soon, the gym followed. What had been purely functional, a task to tick off, became something I looked forward to. The repetition. The progress. The feeling of being in sync with my body, not at war with it. I didn’t need food to feel good. I was creating that reward through movement, through effort, through growth.
That’s what life after Mounjaro has taught me, how to replace old patterns with sustainable rewards, but I also realised something else: dopamine addiction isn’t limited to food. Even healthy outlets like exercise can become another form of chasing the high. And so I started exploring how to balance it.
That’s when I discovered contrast therapy.
Resetting the System
Contrast therapy, the combination of cold and heat exposure, through ice baths and saunas, wasn’t something I imagined I’d ever enjoy. But I was drawn to it for one key reason: research suggests it helps reset dopamine sensitivity.
After weeks of emotional flatness followed by weeks of chasing new highs in the gym, I was ready to stabilise. And that’s exactly what contrast therapy gave me, a new baseline. One that wasn’t dictated by cravings, highs, or crashes. Just calm. Control. Clarity.
Now, it’s part of my wellness routine. Not a gimmick, but a reset button that helps me stay centred, especially on the days when the drive to “do more” starts to creep in.
From Numbers to Narrative
Let’s talk progress, because while this story is about mindset, the physical transformation has been just as real.
Since starting this journey, I’ve dropped nearly 40kg. I now weigh 117.96kg, with body fat at 28.6% and muscle mass at 67.8%. When I began, that split was 43.5% fat and 53.8% muscle. My latest stats speak volumes about what’s possible when you stay consistent in life after Mounjaro.
The difference isn’t just visible, it’s measurable. I track it daily using Withings Scales, reviewing weekly and monthly averages to see long-term trends. I don’t get caught up in daily fluctuations. I look at the bigger picture.
And to support that picture, I lean heavily on my Apple Watch for daily fitness data and Strava to track all my rides, walks, and gym sessions. It’s not about obsessing. It’s about staying informed. Engaged. Present in my own progress.
Life After Mounjaro: Living the Structure
These days, I train four times a week. Each session starts the same: five minutes on the treadmill, a warm-up on the resistance machines, then into a structured programme that blends free weights and machines. No circus moves. No complicated balance drills. Just consistent, effective work designed to build strength and shift fat.
I track my nutrition on MyFitnessPal, keeping myself in a small calorie deficit enough to keep fat coming off while supporting muscle. I take creatine daily, stay hydrated, and prioritise sleep. I’m not dieting. I’m fuelling a lifestyle.
And that lifestyle includes joy. Weekends away. Good food. Time with people I love. The occasional indulgence that doesn’t derail me, because balance isn’t a treat anymore. It’s the baseline.
So, What Does Life After Mounjaro Really Look Like?
It looks like ownership. It looks like momentum, not maintenance. It’s realising that while Mounjaro gave me the breathing room to change, I’ve built the tools to continue.
Would I recommend it? Absolutely! If used under guidance and with the right intention. But it’s just the beginning. What matters most is what you do after. When the medication ends, the real growth begins.
And I’ve grown in every possible way.
Today, I don’t just feel lighter. I feel more in control. More motivated. More resilient. I’ve learned to create joy that isn’t tied to a plate. I’ve learned to move for energy, not punishment. I’ve built a structure that supports me, and a mindset that grounds me.
This is wellness. Not in the Instagrammable, perfect-flat-white kind of way, but in the way you feel when you wake up, stretch, and know you’re becoming exactly who you said you would.
I’m still on the journey. But it’s mine now. Fully. Freely. And that’s what life after Mounjaro has given me.
