Why Hanging Upside Down Might Save Your Fitness Routine

Why Hanging Upside Down Might Save Your Fitness Routine

I'll be honest with you — the last time I willingly hung from anything, I was probably eight years old on some playground monkey bars, showing off for kids who've long since forgotten my name. Fast forward twenty-something years, and here I am, writing about aerial fitness like it's the answer to all our exercise-related existential crises.

But maybe it actually is?

Paula Van Kuren thinks so. This badass opened "Fitness By Paula" right as we were all stumbling out of our pandemic caves, blinking in the sunlight and wondering if our legs still worked. And honestly? The timing couldn't be more perfect.

The Great Gym Exodus (And Why We're All So Tired)

Let's talk about something we don't discuss enough: traditional gyms kinda suck for a lot of people. There, I said it.

Van Kuren put it perfectly when she told her local news outlet that "the weight-lifting – that constant grueling routine – is hard to stick with." She's not wrong. How many of us have signed up for gym memberships with the best intentions, only to find ourselves three months later avoiding that building like it personally insulted our mothers?

The problem isn't that we're lazy or lack willpower (despite what fitness culture loves to tell us). The problem is that we've somehow convinced ourselves that exercise needs to feel like punishment to be effective. That if we're not suffering, we're not doing it right.

Newsflash: That's bullshit.

I spent years doing exactly what I was "supposed" to do. Treadmill intervals that felt like medieval torture. Weight routines that made me dread walking into the gym. Fitness classes where I spent more time watching the clock than actually enjoying movement.

And you know what happened? I burned out. Hard. I went from someone who genuinely loved moving my body to someone who associated exercise with anxiety and shame. Sound familiar?

Enter the Flying Circus (And Why Our Inner Eight-Year-Old Knows Best)

Here's where aerial fitness gets interesting — and I mean actually interesting, not "sponsored post interesting."

When you're hanging from silk scarves or aerial hoops, something weird happens. Your brain kind of... forgets it's exercising. Instead, you're just playing. You're exploring what your body can do when gravity becomes more of a suggestion than a rule.

Think about it: kids don't need motivation to move. They don't set movement goals or track their steps. They move because it feels good, because it's fun, because they can. Somewhere along the way, we adults decided that wasn't serious enough.

But what if we had it backwards this whole time?

Research in sports psychology consistently shows that intrinsic motivation — doing something because it's inherently enjoyable — leads to better long-term adherence than extrinsic motivation (doing it because we "should"). Yet somehow, the fitness industry built an entire empire on making us feel guilty about our bodies and then selling us the punishment.

Aerial fitness flips that script entirely. You're not grinding through reps or watching calories burn on a screen. You're learning to fly, even if it's just a few feet off the ground.

The Rebellion You Didn't Know You Needed

I'm starting to think aerial fitness is less about the actual aerial part and more about giving the middle finger to everything we've been told about "proper" exercise.

Can't touch your toes? Doesn't matter when you're wrapped in silk. Never been the strongest person in the room? Cool, because aerial work is more about body awareness and progression than raw power. Intimidated by typical gym bros? Hard to maintain that energy when everyone's literally learning to hang upside down together.

There's something beautifully equalizing about aerial classes. Everyone looks a little ridiculous when they're starting out. Everyone has to trust the process, trust the equipment, trust their bodies to do things that feel impossible at first.

And honestly? That vulnerability is exactly what traditional fitness culture has beaten out of us. We've been taught to hide our weaknesses, to push through pain, to never look like beginners. Aerial fitness laughs at all of that.

When was the last time you tried something completely new with your body? Something that required you to be patient with yourself, to celebrate small wins, to actually feel what you were doing instead of just going through the motions?

But Let's Keep It Real for a Minute

Look, I'm not about to tell you that aerial fitness is some magical solution that'll fix everything wrong with exercise culture. That would be weird and also probably not true.

It's not accessible for everyone — physically OR financially. Most aerial studios aren't cheap, and the movement requirements can be prohibitive for people with certain injuries or disabilities. Class schedules often cater to people with flexible work hours. And let's be honest, it's still pretty niche in most places.

Plus, like any fitness trend, there's always the risk it gets co-opted by the same toxic messaging that ruins everything else. I can already see the Instagram ads: "Get SHREDDED with aerial! Transform your body in 30 days!"

Please, universe, don't let that happen.

But here's what I think is actually revolutionary about places like Paula's gym: they're betting on joy. They're saying that maybe, just maybe, the best exercise is the one you actually want to do.

The Plot Twist Nobody Saw Coming

Want to know the really wild part? While you're busy having fun and feeling like you're in Cirque du Soleil, you're actually getting a pretty incredible workout.

Aerial work hits basically everything:

  • Core strength (because physics)
  • Upper body and grip strength
  • Flexibility and mobility
  • Balance and proprioception
  • Mental focus and body awareness

But you don't really notice it while it's happening because you're too busy trying to figure out how to get into that cool pose your instructor just demonstrated.

It's like your body is getting stronger by accident. Which, honestly, might be the best way to get stronger.

I remember the first time I managed to do an aerial inversion — basically flipping upside down while hanging from fabric. It wasn't graceful. I probably looked like a confused burrito. But the feeling of accomplishment was so much better than any PR I'd ever hit in a traditional gym.

Because it wasn't about the numbers. It was about possibility.

So Where Does This Leave Us?

Maybe Paula Van Kuren is onto something bigger than just opening another fitness studio. Maybe she's part of a quiet revolution happening in how we think about movement and bodies and what exercise is actually for.

I'm not saying everyone needs to run out and join an aerial gym (though if you want to, go for it). But I am saying that maybe it's time we all got a little more honest about what actually makes us want to move.

What if your workout didn't have to hurt to work? What if getting stronger could feel like playing? What if the best fitness routine was just... the one that made you happy?

Revolutionary thoughts, I know.

If you're reading this and feeling stuck in your own fitness rut, here's my very unprofessional advice: try something that scares you a little bit. Something that makes you feel like a beginner again. Something that prioritizes how you feel over how you look.

Maybe it's aerial. Maybe it's dance classes or rock climbing or underwater basket weaving. I don't really care what it is.

Just find your version of flying, even if your feet never leave the ground.

And Paula? If you're somehow reading this — thanks for betting on joy. The world needs more gyms like yours, and more people willing to challenge what fitness is supposed to look like.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some silk scarves to hang from. Badly, probably, but with a ridiculous smile on my face.


Have you tried aerial fitness or found your own non-traditional way to move? Drop a comment and tell me about it. And if this resonated with you, maybe share it with someone who needs to hear that exercise doesn't have to suck.