Fitness Fame on Social Media: From Health Inspiration to an Early Death
Fitness influencers make bold claims like “abs in six weeks” and “a new life in 30 days.”
Introduction
Imagine you are someone looking for tips, advice, and ideas on how to be healthy, fit, and strong.
You scroll through social media, hoping to discover inspiration, guidance, or maybe even a mentor. Instead, you encounter individuals with well-sculpted bodies peddling secrets.
Fitness influencers make bold claims like “abs in six weeks” and “a new life in 30 days.” But what they don’t tell you is this: many of them are liars.
Many of them are using steroids, hormones, and performance enhancers. And many of them are dying—or worse, taking your health, trust, and hard-earned money with them.
There was a time when a healthy body meant a simple balance of movement, nutritious food, and discipline.
Now? It means algorithms, abs, and adrenaline-fueled highlight reels. In today’s digital colosseum, fitness influencers dominate our feeds—showing us what we should eat, how we should train, and who we should become.
But what if I told you that many of these fitness influencers are deceiving you?
What if the price for their bodies is your health, your money, and, in some tragic cases, their lives?
I’m not writing this as a critic of fitness.
I love it. I’m 52 and still boxing in the Masters division. I know what real training, real pain, and real results look like.
And I understand how tempting it can be to trust someone online who promises quick fixes.
However, shortcuts are not available. There are only side effects, and this article is your wake-up call.
The Rise of the Fitness Deceivers
The fitness influencer industry is worth billions. In 2023 alone, influencer marketing in the health and fitness sector surpassed $1.3 billion USD globally.
Platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube are overflowing with men and women promoting their programs, their bodies, and their secrets.
But behind the glossy photos and motivational speeches, there’s an invisible pharmacy.
These influencers claim to be natural, disciplined, and committed to clean eating. Some sell 12-week shred programs; others peddle meal plans or supplement stacks.
But many of them are quietly injecting substances that have nothing to do with nutrition or hard work.
Take Brian Johnson, better known as the “Liver King.” With a Viking-like torso and a primal lifestyle brand, he amassed millions of followers, claiming his physique was the result of eating raw liver, sunbathing his testicles, and ancestral workouts.
In 2022, it came to light that he was spending over $11,000 a month on steroids and human growth hormone. Leaked emails were the catalyst for his confession.
And yet, he still sells.
Death by Deception
But first, what are steroids?
Anabolic steroids are synthetic substances designed to mimic testosterone—the hormone responsible for muscle growth, strength, and male characteristics.
While originally developed to treat medical conditions such as delayed puberty and diseases that cause muscle loss, they are often abused by athletes and influencers to enhance physical performance and appearance.
This abuse can lead to severe side effects: liver damage, cardiovascular disease, infertility, mood disorders, and an increased risk of sudden death.
These substances may create temporary visual results—but at the cost of long-term health and, sometimes, life itself.
Let’s talk about death. Not metaphorically. Literally.
Jo Lindner, a.k.a. “Joesthetics,” garnered immense popularity due to his exuberant videos and extreme physical attractiveness. He died at age 30 from an aneurysm. Before his death, he was open about using testosterone and other anabolic agents. He spoke candidly about the pressure to look a certain way and the fear of losing size.
Jaxon Tippet, an Australian fitness model and influencer, died of a heart attack at 30. He had battled steroid addiction and legal issues, openly sharing his past struggles. In one of his final Instagram posts, he poignantly expressed, “If I die young, I just want you to know I tried.”
Neil Currey, a former Mr. Olympia competitor, passed away in 2023 at just 34 years old. His family and friends later revealed the toll that performance-enhancing drugs and mental health issues took on his life.
Larissa Borges, a Brazilian fitness influencer, suffered two cardiac arrests and died at 33. While no conclusive toxicology report has been made public, local authorities suspect possible substance abuse.
Odalis Santos Mena, a 23-year-old Mexican fitness influencer and bodybuilder, also lost her life in 2021. She died during a cosmetic procedure intended to reduce underarm sweating. Reports later revealed she had taken anabolic steroids and a weight-loss drug prior to the treatment, which may have fatally interacted with the anaesthesia. Her death shook the fitness community and sparked serious conversations about the pressure to look perfect—even under the knife.
These aren’t isolated tragedies. They are becoming more frequent.
Why Do They Lie?
Truth doesn’t gain traction as quickly as illusion.
Most people would rather not hear that building a lean, strong, and sustainable physique takes years of dedication, smart programming, proper nutrition, and, most importantly, patience. Instead, they want the 6-week summer body.
The 30-day abs are also a popular choice. They’ve compromised their metabolism.
Influencers lie because the market rewards them for it. Their bodies are their business. Every like, every follow, and every sale is a reward for deception.
And when the dopamine hits of digital applause meet the real chemistry of performance-enhancing drugs, the result is a deadly addiction to validation.
This deception isn’t just immoral—it’s criminal. They promote themselves as role models while pushing untested supplements, fake certifications, and unsustainable expectations.
They convince people to stop trusting doctors, nutritionists, and real coaches in favor of a $99 downloadable PDF.
The Victims: You and Me
This isn’t just their story. It’s ours. The story revolves around a young man who experiences feelings of inadequacy due to his chest not appearing as prominent as that of the person on TikTok.
It’s about the woman starving herself because her favorite influencer swears carbs are evil. It concerns the teenager who purchases SARMs online to emulate his idol.
It also concerns individuals like you and me who aspire to be stronger, healthier, and more confident.
People suffer when influencers propagate false information. They suffer physical, emotional, and financial harm. The betrayal is deep.
Trust is the foundation of influence, and too many of these figures are exploiting it for clout.
How to Spot the Scam: The Fitness “Con Code”
As someone who’s spent a career uncovering scams, lies, and manipulation tactics—here’s what to look for:
Unrealistic Transformations: Gained 10kg of muscle in 2 months? Scam.
Consistently Shirtless, Yet Lacking Transparency: If individuals display their abs but do not provide blood test results or comprehensive training logs, it is advisable to be cautious.
No Credentials, All Confidence: Certifications matter. So does experience. It’s not just about lighting.
Magic Supplements: No pill or powder will replace real food and time under tension.
Buzzwords such as “anabolic window,” “biohack,” or “detox” often lead to confusion.
Hidden Disclaimer: Pay attention to the details. “Individual results may vary” is often the code for “I’m in gear.”
The Solution: Return to Reality
We must reclaim fitness from fantasy.
This entails revealing the true nature of genuine progress. It’s slow. It’s sweaty. It’s often boring. But it works. It means following people who are honest about their methods. It means listening to coaches who prioritize your longevity over your before-and-after photo.
And it means pushing platforms to enforce more transparency. Just as we label sponsored content, maybe it’s time to label physiques enhanced by synthetic substances.
If you’re chasing health, pursue truth. The best gains come from consistency, not chemicals.
This post was written by Mario Bekes
Excellent warning about “enhanced” fitness.