From Peloton leader to bestselling author, Robin Arzón draws strength from her heritage to empower communities and redefine wellness.
As a Latina with roots in Puerto Rico and Cuba, how has your heritage influenced your career trajectory and personal philosophy?
My parents’ work ethic, tenacity, and resilience inspired me. I really feel like I started at their mountaintop.
My father was the janitor at CUNY School in the Bronx. He was born in Puerto Rico, but my abuela moved him to the Bronx because she thought there would be more opportunities. He began auditing classes at the community college, even after being rejected three times. A professor noticed him and got the dean to matriculate him. Similarly, my mother, a Cuban refugee, came over at 15 and taught herself English. She promised her Monsignor she’d earn a “B” average so she could be placed on the college track. Both my parents bet on themselves, and that idea has been central to our DNA. The question I’ve asked myself throughout my career is, “Why not me?”
Your transition from a successful law career to becoming a global fitness leader is inspiring. What aspects of your cultural background supported you during this significant life change?
I drew resilience from my family. Many immigrant stories have a scrappiness to them. Telling my family I wasn’t going to be a lawyer anymore was jarring after so much work had gone into it, but they were supportive. I respected how hard they worked and the sacrifices they made, not only for us but for our extended family. I grew up helping my abuela mail powdered milk to Cuba, flattened in envelopes so my uncle and cousins could receive it. I understood sacrifice and approached my own career changes with deep respect, while still carving my own path.
In what ways do you incorporate & celebrate elements of your Latina identity into your daily life and professional endeavors?
I love being a Latina — the music, the language, teaching my kids Spanish in our bilingual household. Living in New York, we’re surrounded by Latinos, and I’m proud of artists like Bad Bunny who’ve penetrated the zeitgeist. I make space for the Latino community, whether it’s playing Latin music in my Peloton classes or asking in professional spaces whose voices are missing. I joined the board of the National Museum of the American Latino because the Latino story is an American story, and I want my kids to know their heritage.
You’ve been recognized as one of TIME Magazine’s Latino Leaders. How do you leverage this platform to advocate for underrepresented communities, particularly within the fitness industry?
I try to use my voice where I can and support organizations that are already doing incredible work, like Poderistas; partnering with champions like America Ferrera, Eva Longoria, and Elsa; and in joining the board of the National Museum of the American Latino. Their ability to merge nonprofit work with entertainment is powerful. I support them wherever I can — helping spread information about healthcare, voting, or immigrant rights — in joining the board of the National Museum of the American Latino, I really hope that we’re capturing stories for future generations.
Your mantra emphasizes mental strength and resilience. Can you share a personal story where embracing these principles led to overcoming a significant challenge?
I hold on to mantras that keep me grounded. I believe it’s possible to turn pain into power. My mom’s multiple sclerosis (MS) diagnosis, and later my own with type 1 diabetes, tested us. Both of us faced skepticism from the healthcare system because we didn’t fit the presumed profile. Even with education and privilege, we had to advocate for ourselves. That experience strengthened my belief in encouraging Latinas to use their voices, even when they shake or are disregarded.
As a mother, how do you instill values of empowerment and cultural pride in your children?
Both my kids know their abuelos’ stories. We visit Puerto Rico every year, raise them bilingual, and share food traditions. I developed a cookbook, “Eat to Hustle” (out March 10, 2026), because I wanted to remix Puerto Rican and Cuban dishes into plant-based recipes. Cooking with my kids allows me to honor traditions while creating new ones. Language, music, story, and food are daily parts of our home.
With your extensive experience in fitness and wellness, what emerging trends do you foresee shaping the industry in the coming years?
In wellness, I see the future moving toward integrated platforms that combine movement, mental health, recovery, and nutrition — a 360º approach to well-being. I’m proud of Peloton’s diversity and my role in recruitment. With AI and personalized programming, we’ll reach more audiences in more languages and geographies.
Your work spans various media, from Peloton classes to bestselling books. How do you maintain authenticity across these platforms while engaging diverse audiences?
For creators, authenticity has to be the anchor. We operate on trust. I imagine speaking to one person when the red light goes on at Peloton, or when I write a book or podcast. I let my truth lead, showing up as a mother, executive, athlete, and storyteller. That consistency of conversation, rather than uniformity, is what builds trust. I founded Swagger Society to connect with my most committed followers. We host quarterly roundtables where I hear their perspectives and often shape future topics from their input.
Representation matters in every field. How do you see your role in inspiring the next generation of Latino professionals and leaders?
I hope the next generation of Latino leaders knows you don’t have to shrink or assimilate to succeed. Our culture is not a liability; it’s a superpower. My mom always told me, “Nobody remembers normalcy.” She embraced her accent and difference, even when it wasn’t welcomed. Being different makes you memorable. If you lean into it, your people will find you. There’s responsibility in that, but also power.
There isn’t one way to lead. Whether it’s speaking Spanglish in a Peloton class or building generational wealth, we belong. Every time we show up in wellness, business, activism, or media, we expand the map for others. Through mentorship, Swagger Society, Peloton, and organizations like Poderistas, I want to help architect the world we deserve.
What legacy do you hope to leave for your community, and how does your cultural heritage play a role in that vision?
I hope my legacy is rooted in democratizing movement and self-care for all, especially Latinas. I want to rewrite stories through movement so it isn’t a luxury but accessible to everyone. Strength should be defined not just by what we lift but by how we rise. I wasn’t born into sports; I became an athlete. Transformation is possible for everyone.
Whenever I feel nervous stepping into a room, I think of my abuela arriving in Philadelphia after teaching in Cuba. She had to borrow winter clothes from a church and take a factory job for 32 cents an hour. I kept one of her pay stubs on my desk as a reminder of her hustle. If she had the bravery to put herself in that environment, how could I not walk into rooms with confidence, backed by the sacrifices of those before me? I walk in like I have a thousand abuelas behind me, because why not me?
My heritage fuels my fire. The survival stories, the pride of my ancestors, that’s my why. It’s woven into my pedal strokes, footsteps, pushups, keynotes, and cookbooks. If it has my imprint, it has theirs, too.
