Zepbound, Month One: The Hesitation, the Shift, and the Start of Real Change

Disclaimer: This blog reflects my personal experience with Zepbound and the medical decisions made in consultation with my healthcare provider. It is not intended as medical advice, guidance, or endorsement for anyone else’s use of the medication. Everyone’s health journey is unique, and readers should speak directly with their doctors or qualified health professionals before making any medical decisions.

I’ve also made a point to read and seek out blunt, open, and sometimes uncomfortable stories from others on their journeys — including things that might be considered too personal or "not appropriate" to share, like how their bodies reacted, digestion patterns, bowel changes, and more, and at some point I’m sure I will start to address changes like loose skin, cosmetic surgery, etc.. I’ve found those insights incredibly valuable — and I’ve chosen to write my blog in that same spirit. If you find those details objectionable or uninteresting, you may want to skip reading further. 

I didn’t want to go on the shot.

Before I get too far in, I also want to acknowledge something else: You may have seen my original post where I shared that I was starting this journey and choosing to talk about it — even in my professional and public circles. That was a big decision for me. It’s part of my larger effort to build an honest brand around lifestyle, family office work, travel, dining, and personal transformation.

But sharing online — consistently, vulnerably — is new for me. I’m a work in progress when it comes to content rhythm and getting over the perfection paralysis that so many of us know too well. I intended to post updates daily or at least weekly. Instead, here I am catching up as I head into my second month on Zepbound.

I’ll do my best to improve going forward. And if you’re someone who’s great at content, editing, or navigating the influencer world — I’d love your tips.

That original post — the one where I announced I was starting Zepbound and made the decision to talk about it openly — was written right on the edge of that decision. You can find it in my blog archive at JenKat.com, or feel free to DM or email me for the direct link. That post marked the beginning. And now, here I am — one full month in.

Not because I didn’t want help — I did. I’ve carried this weight for years, and with it, the joint pain, the fatigue, and the quiet frustration of feeling like I’m fighting my own body every single day.

But when I first started hearing about Zepbound, my immediate reaction was caution. And that big caution that had a name: cancer. I read the prescribing info, I saw the black box warning, and I wasn’t interested in jumping on the trend just because everyone was talking about it.

So, for a while, I stayed back.

Tiptoeing In

Eventually, I told myself I’d just do the consult. I had done it before — twice, in fact. But this time, I promised myself I’d follow through. Not with the shot — just with the bloodwork. I needed to see where things really stood before I made any decisions.

When the results came back, I wasn’t surprised to see that I didn’t have diabetes. I didn’t even have pre-diabetes. But then I saw the number that stopped me in my tracks:

Insulin: 74.

If you’re not familiar, general clinical guidelines suggest that healthy fasting insulin levels fall around 2–8. Anything over 15 is considered a red flag for insulin resistance. My number was nearly 10 times higher than the optimal range.

Suddenly, things made sense.

This wasn’t just about willpower or calories. This was about how my body had been forced to operate under the weight of chronic insulin resistance — storing fat, craving food, and doing everything it could to hold on.

The Breaking Point

The decision didn’t come in one big, dramatic moment. It came in a string of days where I just couldn’t deny what was happening anymore.

My joints hurt. I was losing energy faster than I could rebuild it. And most of all, I felt like I was disappearing behind my own discomfort.

Then, as if the universe wanted to underline it, I started hearing stories — from people I trusted, not influencers. Not miracle cures. Just:

“I finally feel like food isn’t controlling me anymore.” “I can pause before I eat something.” “I’m not perfect, but I’m not stuck.”

That was it. I didn’t need perfect. I just needed possible.

Other friends kept telling me about people they knew who were having huge success stories — not just losing weight, but living with vastly improved energy, clarity, and confidence. It felt like everyone around me was stepping into a new chapter of life, and I was finally ready to turn the page myself.

Starting Zepbound: Week by Week

My doctor started me on the 2.5 mg starter dose, and I went into it with cautious optimism.

Not excitement — just… a willingness to try.

Week 1: Side Effects, Uncertainty, and the First Signal

The first week was rough.

I took my first shot in the afternoon — and immediately knew I wouldn’t do that again. Within an hour or two, I felt groggy, tired, and off. A weird metallic taste hit my mouth, and I had this uneasy feeling that something in my system had shifted fast.

Then came the headaches. For 2 to 4 nights, I had intense, pulsing headaches that Tylenol couldn’t touch — and that’s rare for me. I usually respond well to medication, but this was different. The only thing that finally started to help was electrolyte water at night. I don’t know if it was the hydration, the sodium balance, or just time — but something started to ease after that.

I also peed constantly for about four days straight (again, I warned that I would share these details, for those who are considering this journey and may be reading about a range of experiences). It was like my body was trying to flush everything — and I could barely leave home without feeling like I needed a bathroom nearby.

Still, through all of that… I noticed something.

I wasn’t obsessing over what I’d eat next. And I don’t mean binge-obsessing. I mean the kind of daily mental math that so many people don’t see — the constant scanning of every bite, every calorie, every possible “mistake” that might explain why the scale keeps creeping up.

When your body seems to gain weight just by relaxing for a moment, you start to feel like you have to monitor everything. The obsession becomes a kind of survival mechanism — tracking macros, debating which diet you’re supposed to be on this week, wondering if that one happy hour Cosmopolitan will be your undoing.

And deep down, you know that when you’re stressed, sugar gives you a kind of calm that’s hard to replicate any other way. And the afternoon energy slump? It doesn’t just hit — it sinks you unless sugar and caffeine show up at just the right time to rescue you. That cycle becomes so automatic, it feels like regulation. Like survival.

To make it more complicated, I rarely feel full. I’ve spent years trying to honor my hunger and stop when I’m satisfied — but I almost never get that signal. So I’ve had to decide how much is enough based on math, fear, or guilt. Never instinct.

But that first week, even through the headaches and exhaustion… it got quiet. Just quiet enough to breathe. Quiet enough to notice that I didn’t have to white-knuckle every bite.

Week 2: Calm Replaces the Noise

By the second week, the fog lifted — literally and mentally.

The cravings? Still there sometimes, but muted. The panic hunger I used to feel between meals? Gone. I found myself eating slower, leaving food on my plate, and being able to walk past things that would have owned me just a few weeks earlier.

I felt calmer. Not just in my eating — in my whole being.

Week 3: Frustration and Holding Steady

I expected the weight loss to pick up by week three. It didn’t. I was doing everything right — tracking, staying within points, hitting my protein — but the scale wasn’t moving.

It was frustrating. There were moments where I thought, “If I’m not losing weight on this, then what’s the point?” But deep down I knew: my body was adjusting. My digestion was still slow. And sometimes, the number on the scale doesn’t catch up until later.

So I kept going.

Week 4: Real Momentum (and One Moment That Changed Everything)

This past week, I went on a trip to Maine for a family office retreat. Travel has always been where progress goes to die — but this time, I packed with intention. I prepped. I planned. And I followed through.

And something shifted. Not just internally — externally.

I got back from the family office retreat trip last night, and went to my hair/nail salon appointment this morning. The woman at the front desk of my salon took one look at me and said, “You’ve lost a lot of weight.”

After weeks of internal work, finally… it was starting to show.

What I Actually Ate — And the Foods I Unexpectedly Couldn't

In those first few weeks, I had every intention of following the standard advice: get your protein in, space your meals, and keep it simple. I stocked up on things I thought would be easy, reliable staples — and found myself repulsed by some of them almost immediately.

Hard-boiled eggs? I wanted to like them. I always have. They’ve been a reliable part of my routine for years. But as soon as I started Zepbound, I had what I can only describe as a morning sickness-style aversion. The smell alone turned my stomach. Even thinking about eating them made me feel nauseated.

And it wasn’t just eggs. I had stocked up on pre-cooked chicken, assuming it would be easy, lean protein. But when I finally tried it — and I knew it wasn’t spoiled — my body reacted like I was about to poison myself. Every bite felt wrong, as if my system had decided it was unsafe, no matter what my brain knew.

By week three, something shifted. I still couldn’t do cold eggs, but warm, freshly cooked eggs became tolerable — even enjoyable. And while I still haven’t fully made peace with chicken, I’ve learned to trust the signal instead of forcing something just because it’s “on plan.”

Warm vs. Cold: What I Learned About Texture and Temperature

I also noticed a surprising pattern: warm food was easier to tolerate than cold. Even my OWYN shakes, which are typically served cold, are easier for me to drink at room temperature. They settle better, and I’m not bracing for impact the way I sometimes am with chilled food.

Chobani Zero yogurts fall into a similar category — I eat them regularly, but I notice that my body takes a few hesitant bites before fully accepting them. There’s a tiny pause that happens in my gut, as if my system is asking, “Are we really doing this?”

This adjustment period has taught me that eating on Zepbound isn’t just about food choices — it’s about body awareness. And sometimes the best plan is the one that changes based on what you can actually tolerate, not what you intended to eat.

How Many Calories?

In the first few days, my total intake dropped — 600 to 800 calories a day, and not out of restriction. I just wasn’t hungry. That worried me at first (Would I mess up my metabolism? Should I be eating more?), but I listened to my body, not the old rules.

Over time, my appetite started to normalize a bit. I now average around 1,000 to 1,200 calories most days, depending on the day and how I feel. The day after my shot, I often eat less — maybe 800–900 — and then it picks back up gradually.

But even now, it’s different. I’m not grazing all day. I don’t finish meals out of obligation or fear of getting hungry later. I eat until I’m okay — not full, just done. And for me, that’s a new and powerful feeling.

Moving Without Pain — and Rethinking What Counts as Exercise

One of the biggest myths I had to unlearn was the idea that unless you're killing yourself in the gym, you’re not doing it right — or worse, that you're a failure if you can't. That narrative is so deeply embedded in the weight loss world, it can make anyone with a physical limitation feel like success is off the table.

For me, that belief hit hard. I’ve been dealing with an injured knee and a pending MRI. My orthopedic specialist has advised me to be extremely careful — no pounding workouts, no pushing through pain. So when I started Zepbound, I honestly assumed I'd be set up to fail. If I couldn’t hit the gym hard, how could I possibly lose weight?

But here’s what I’ve learned: that idea — that heavy workouts are essential to success — is not just outdated, it’s harmful.

Light walking, the seated elliptical, and low-impact activity are more than enough to support the kind of shift Zepbound is helping me make. Later on, as my strength improves, weight training will absolutely have its place. But right now, I’m learning to move gently and consistently — and that’s making a difference.

The medication is supporting my body’s metabolic reset. And the movement I can do is enhancing my circulation, mindset, and recovery — not punishing me.

Tools That Help Me Stay on Track

Because no one really hands you a Zepbound-specific food tracker or plan to follow, I’ve relied heavily on tools I already know and love — especially the Weight Watchers (WW) app. I've been a WW Online member for years, and the app has become my go-to resource. It allows me to track all of my foods, water intake, weight, and even my exercise. One of the most powerful parts? I can see my weight history for the past 12+ years. It’s humbling, grounding, and motivating all at once.

I also use ChatGPT to help me process what I’m feeling, plan my meals, troubleshoot side effects, and even talk me through tough days when motivation dips. Having a sounding board — even a virtual one — has helped me stay accountable and less alone in this journey.

When the Calm Wavers — and Why I Chose to Increase

Over the past week, something shifted. After a relatively quiet and steady few weeks, I started noticing more food noise creeping back in. I found myself thinking about food more often, and I even had cravings for a specific brand of protein balls — cravings that were stronger than what I’d felt for even my previous favorite indulgences.

By mid-week, my hunger had clearly increased. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was unsettling — especially because I’ve been doing everything right. It made me anxious about my upcoming travel, especially a trip to Las Vegas where structure is harder and temptations are everywhere.

I realized I needed clarity, so I reached out to my doctor. I explained my progress, how I’d been feeling, and asked whether this increase in hunger was normal — and what I should do about my dosage.

The truth is, I had been quietly hoping I’d never need to increase my dose. I was doing well on 2.5 mg, and it felt empowering to think I might stay there. But deep down, I also had to admit that part of me saw increasing the dose as a kind of failure — like I wasn’t doing enough on my own.

But the conversation with my doctor helped reframe that. She reminded me that responding well is exactly why people increase — not because they’re failing, but because their body is ready to take the next step. And so am I.

She also reminded me that the 2.5 mg dose I had been on is generally considered a starter or "tester" dose, not a therapeutic level. It's (I have been told) designed to help you tolerate the medication — not necessarily to produce full results. And while I've done well so far, the reality is that my body is still fighting to keep me at my set point — the weight range it has been defending for years. This isn’t just a gentle recalibration; it’s a real battle against decades of metabolic conditioning.

The increase isn’t just a next step. It’s a weapon against my own chemistry.

Navigating Travel and Dining Out

This past week in Maine gave me a chance to test how this new lifestyle translates to real life on the road. Thankfully, I had the luxury of driving to this family office retreat, and I had access to a refrigerator and microwave. That made a huge difference — it meant I could mostly stick to the foods I’ve been relying on at home.

I also hosted a business lunch the week before, which was the first time I had to navigate a restaurant menu since starting Zepbound. I didn’t leave it to chance — I actually pulled up the menu ahead of time and used ChatGPT to help me plan my order. It was like having a personal nutrition coach walk through it with me.

This has been especially helpful as I begin using inKind, a dining and hospitality platform I’ve partnered with — and a national force in restaurant financing and mentorship in the industry — through an exciting new affiliate relationship. It lets me combine business networking, intentional dining, and personal enjoyment all in one — while still staying aligned with my health goals. I’m documenting the journey and using the platform to discover new spots, stay mindful, and integrate my dining choices into my larger brand — including Kajora Club. I’m especially looking forward to doing this more in NYC and Connecticut as we grow our Ambassador community, and as I travel across the country in the months ahead for a wide range of business efforts. inKind is becoming both a work and social dining hub, and a national resource I’m grateful to have in my toolkit. It also gives me a number of ways to stretch my dining dollars much further while networking and working with existing and new family office leaders, tech founders, real estate developers, and other meaningful relationships across the country.

But this was just a warm-up. Several upcoming trips involve air travel, TSA restrictions, and limited access to groceries or refrigeration. That’s going to be a different kind of challenge — and in my next post, as I enter Month Two, I’ll share my grocery list, what’s going in my suitcase, and exactly how I plan to stick with this even on the road.

The Reality of the Scale

One of the most emotionally challenging parts of this journey — and probably the hardest thing to talk about — is the scale.

The first week was thrilling. I dropped 9 pounds in seven days, and in the middle of all the strange and uncomfortable side effects, it felt like a reward. It made the headaches, the grogginess, and even the endless bathroom trips feel worth it. Like something was finally working.

But then came Week Two — and the scale stopped. I hit a cement wall. I followed the plan, tracked everything, even went back to the gym... and then saw the number go up by a pound the very next day. That crushed me. I was doing everything right, and I suddenly felt like my body was just broken — like even with Zepbound, I was going to be one of the people it just didn’t work for.

I kept going anyway.

The emotional whiplash of those next two weeks was real. My weight bounced up and down, day after day, with just 3 more pounds of net loss to show for it by the end of Week Four.

Heading to Maine, I was nervous. Really nervous. No scale, no routine, and two nights where I ate meals that were clearly higher in fat and calories than what I’ve been used to. I tried to balance it out the rest of the day — but I had no idea if it would be enough. The thought of undoing all my progress with just a few “wrong” meals made it hard to relax.

And when I got home? The scale was up again. I panicked.

But then, within just one night, my body dropped nearly 5 pounds of water and digestive weight — and I remembered something that I’ve had to tell myself again and again:

Scale weight is not fat loss.

What you see on the scale includes water, inflammation, digestion, sodium retention, hormonal shifts, and so much more. It’s data — but it’s not the full story.

The real win? I still feel good. I still feel in control. I haven’t given up. And I know — even with setbacks — I don’t want to give back what I’ve lost.

Where I Am Now

So, as I enter Month Two, I’m feeling both more grounded and more aware of how complex this journey really is. It’s not just about the food or the medication — it’s about reprogramming how I think, plan, and respond to what my body does (and doesn’t do). I’ll continue to share what’s working, what’s evolving, and what I’m still figuring out.

If you’re on your own version of this path, I hope this helped you feel a little less alone.

Want my full list of tools, snacks, and travel-friendly resources?I’m putting together a Zepbound-friendly toolkit with everything that helped me get through Month One — including apps, grocery staples, and affiliate discounts I use myself.

Email me at jennifer@jenkat.com and put "Zepbound Toolkit" in the subject line or check back at JenKat.com/tools — coming soon!