Fitness
A 74-year-old who has worked out daily for 10 years said he loves 2 types of exercise for boosting energy and longevity
- A 74-year-old man has been working out every day for ten years and counting.
- He said using strength machines and walking for cardio has kept him healthy over the years.
- Strength training with machines can help build muscle and prevent injury for better longevity.
When Vincent “Vin” DiMonte decided to hit the gym in late December of 2014, he liked it so much, he worked out again the next day.
And the next day.
And the day after that.
More than 3,700 days later, he hasn’t missed a single day of exercise, though he does take some easier days of light cardio to give his body a chance to recover.
The 74-year-old from Rhode Island said the regular routine of combining strength training with cardio has kept him energized, healthy, and strong over time.
“I am hardly ever sick, and I don’t get headaches. I have maintained my drive, diligence, dedication, and determination all these years,” DiMonte told Business Insider in an interview coordinated by Planet Fitness, his gym of choice.
DiMonte’s current workout schedule is about an hour each day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. It’s been this way for 10 years and counting, and he has no plans to slow down.
“I have treated exercise like a ‘job’ — Get up, dress up, show up, and don’t give up,” he said.
Here’s what a typical workout looks like for DiMonte, and why science says it’s so good for longevity.
Exercise machines help build muscle and prevent injury
The bulk of DiMonte’s workouts, pun intended, is strength training to build muscle.
“The goal has been to become ‘a lean mean, fighting machine,’ as John Candy proclaimed in ‘Stripes,’” DiMonte said.
He spends about 45 minutes of his workout, six days a week, on strength machines. Each focuses on a different muscle group, a strategy called a workout split that allows one muscle group to rest while you work on another.
One recent gym session included calf extensions, leg extensions, and bicep curls. Other go-to exercises include chest presses and cable pull-downs.
DiMonte said he prefers strength training machines to free weights because the movements are easier on his body.
Machine exercise can be great for building muscle, whether you’re a beginner or an experienced athlete, since they help to isolate the target muscles. And healthy muscle mass is key to living longer, making the body more resilient, preventing illness, and bolstering the metabolism over time.
For older athletes exercising for longevity, gym machines can help prevent injury since they provide more support and stability, personal trainers previously told Business Insider.
Cardio protects your heart for a longer life
Over the years, DiMonte has added more time on the treadmill to his workout routine for aerobic exercise.
His current sessions include about 12 minutes of cardio daily, and Sundays are reserved for cardio-only, a type of active recovery so he can keep moving while his muscles rest.
Aerobic or cardio exercise can help extend lifespan and health by protecting your heart as you age, whether you’re walking, biking, jogging, or doing other activities that get your heart rate up.
Walking also kept DiMonte active and exercising daily during COVID when gyms were closed.
DiMonte said the key to maintaining his health, and his decade-long habit, has been staying consistent. His advice is to do something active every day and find a community to build a lifelong habit. Having strong social connections and a sense of purpose is not only linked to better longevity — a workout buddy is one of the best ways to stay motivated at the gym too, according to science.
As DiMonte puts it: “Go one day, then go the next day, and soon you will have a routine. You will make friends with those who have the same goals. They will become your ‘peeps!’”
Running outdoors is the most refreshing way to exercise. But with wet weather, putting miles in on the treadmill is better than putting up excuses for not running at all.
There are a ton of treadmills on the market right now, and they’re better than they’ve ever been. They have more features, use less electricity, and are more versatile than ever before. Some are virtually personal trainers in and of themselves.
Over the last several months we’ve tested a new batch of treadmills, putting miles on them in our office and as part of our own training. These are the ones that we’d recommend bringing home.
Looking for a more heavy-duty treadmill that can handle higher speeds, longer miles, and more complex training plans? See our guide for the best advanced treadmills, which cost more but offer more training features and sturdier builds.
Best Treadmills
What to Consider
Apart from general treadmill safety, there are a few questions you need to ask yourself before you buy the treadmill. These include how you want to use it, how long your stride is, if you want entertainment or training built in, and what you need as far as weight limits are concerned.
Why Trust Us
At Runner’s World, we’ve spent decades covering everything related to running, and our test team has evaluated gear from running shoes to smartwatches to sports bras. We are a team of runners writing for other runners and we understand what you are looking for when it comes to your gear.
If you’re going to buy a piece of equipment that potentially costs thousands of dollars, you want to know that you’re making a good investment. That’s why we test these so hard and make so many demands of the product. We routinely speak to the manufacturers, coaches, and other runners just like you to ensure that our content and recommendations are the best you’ll find.
How We Test
Each and every treadmill on this list has been thoroughly evaluated by our team of editors at Runner’s World. Runner-in-chief Jeff Dengate devised the testing protocol and has logged many miles on most of these treadmills. In addition, I put hours on many of them as part of testing and my own training for upcoming races. Additionally, we solicited input from other staff at our office, like news editor Theo Kahler, who has a PR of 14:20 in the 5K.
We frequently spend lunch runs indoors, staring out windows at picture-perfect days, to get a full assessment of how each treadmill performs.
The team and I evaluated each treadmill, running for miles in every conceivable combination of uses. We evaluated how they feel, how well they change speeds and inclines, and even how they sound when they’re running. I then gauged that performance against their prices, customer service, and setup and delivery.
On that note: I know that not everyone who runs is going to be able to move around a piece of equipment that weighs hundreds of pounds. As someone with a partially paralyzed left hand, I cannot handle the set up and assembly of a treadmill, so good customer service is a highly important factor. I want to make sure that you’re not just getting a good ’mill, but a good overall experience.
Full Reviews
Best Overall
NordicTrack Commercial 1750 Treadmill
Now 8% Off
Key Specs
| Running Surface (W x L) | 22 x 60 in. |
|---|---|
| Max Speed | 12 mph |
| Max Incline | 12% |
| Max Decline | -3% |
| Motor | 4.25 CHP |
| Weight Limit | 300 lb. |
| Treadmill Weight | 310 lb. |
| Programs | 10,000+ with iFit subscription |
| Features | 16-in touchscreen; AutoBreeze fan adjusts to your speed; ActivePulse adjusts treadmill to your heart rate zone; iFit syncs with Strava, Apple Health, Google Fit, and Garmin Connect; Amazon Prime, Spotify, and Netflix integration |
TL;DR The NordicTrack 1750 Treadmill offers a well-cushioned, spacious running surface ideal for taller runners and long strides, with a sleek design and a high-mounted 16-inch screen for comfortable viewing. It’s great for moderate speed training, though it lacks quick keys for 10 and 11 mph. The iFit integration enhances the workout experience, and built-in entertainment features like Netflix make long runs more enjoyable. While it’s a bit loud and pricey, it’s a durable, high-quality treadmill that’s well-suited for most runners.
Dengate says that this treadmill has “Goldilocks-level” cushioning on its long 60-inch running surface. Yes, you feel the deck as you run, but it’s not going to drain you or make your run feel unstable. It’s simply providing enough response to lessen the impact.
The length of the belt means that even the 6-footers on our test team were able to stay centered and felt as though they had plenty of room to kick out. I loved this feature of the 1750. I am 6 f00t and have a stride that some have referred to as “stupidly long,” and I’ve also been told “it looks like I’m trying to jump hurdles.” I had no problems staying on this treadmill, in spite of my drunken-gazelle stride.
Both Dengate and I love the slimmed down features of the treadmill. They make it fab for runners who tend to stay close to the controls and the console. It has a Z-shaped console and handlebar style with a decently large 16-inch screen that sits high enough that you don’t feel like you’re craning your neck from watching shows while you run.
The two built-in cup holders could be deeper and a little wider, but they’re not so shallow that your standard water bottles are going to fall out. If you run with something larger—like an Owala or Nalgene—you’re going to be out of luck.
The slim arms are long enough that you can grab them for stability when you need to, but they never feel like they’re caging you in. They have an almost pebbled plastic feel under your hand, similar to the arms of an office chair, and it felt like I could get a good grip on them even when my hands were sweaty or wet from an icy drink.
When it comes to adjustments, this treadmill is fairly average. It goes from 6 mph to 12 in 8 seconds. This is great for 400- to 800-meter training, and even the occasional fartlek, but not ideal for someone who does intense speed training and needs those pickups to come more quickly.
We love that you can keep the quick keys overlaid on top of whatever you’re watching on Netflix for easy access, with no need to click away to different screens to adjust your speed or incline. They are responsive and easy to manage—with one exception, according to Dengate. He notes: “On this machine, the max speed is 12 mph, but it doesn’t have quick keys for 10 and 11. That’s odd, because the keys are stacked on the right side of the screen and you have to scroll vertically to get to the extremes anyway. So, it’s a little annoying to have to jump to 9 mph, then hit the + button to get to 10.”
We’re fans of NordicTrack’s iFit program. If you’re buying this machine, we recommend that you invest in iFit. It makes for a better experience all around. The program can read your runs and help you adjust where needed, and though we weren’t sure about that feature at first, we found it to be really helpful during training.
The combination of the high horsepower motor and the Bluetooth speaker projecting the running programs does mean this machine is a bit on the loud side. But if you’re using it for walking and wearing headphones instead of using the speakers, it’s not distracting.
The 1750 is a pricey piece of equipment, but it is built like a tank and can elevate your runs in ways you’re not expecting. Both Dengate and I loved using this treadmill for training and non-training runs. The Netflix feature makes miles fly by (we actually both watched the Menendez movie on recent runs on this ’mill), and our joints thanked us for the cushioning.
Overall this machine is the total package, and a great buy for most runners. Yes, there has been some noise recently about NordicTrack’s customer service falling short when machines malfunctioned, but that’s not been our experience, and we haven’t heard anything about it in a while.
NordicTrack Commercial 1750 Review
Best Value
Horizon Fitness T101
Now 40% Off
Key Specs
| Belt | 20 x 55 in. |
|---|---|
| Max speed | 10 mph |
| Max Incline | 10% |
| Max Decline | n/a |
| Motor | 2.5 CHP |
| Weight Limit | 300 lb. |
| Treadmill Weight | 180 lb. |
| Programs | 6 |
| Features | Connects with multiple apps like Zwift, Strava. Three-speed fan, running dials, bluetooth speakers |
TL;DR The Horizon T101 is an excellent budget treadmill that delivers impressive performance and comfort for its price. It’s ideal for casual runners under 6 feet tall, with a cushioned, three-zone deck and simple, user-friendly features like Bluetooth, incline/speed dials, and six built-in programs. While it lacks a fancy screen and can feel a bit shaky at high speeds or inclines, it offers great value, folds easily, and supports basic app connectivity. It’s not built for intense training or very tall runners, but for everyday use, it’s hard to beat at this price.
The Horizon T101 proves that you can get a great machine even if you’re on a budget. After running on it for a few weeks, I was consistently impressed with its performance, especially given its low $600 sale price tag.
It’s a small-bodied folding treadmill with a low-to-the-ground, 20- by 55-inch deck, that’s designed for the more casual runner. It is easy to get on it and go, with six built-in programs, Bluetooth connectivity, and a ton of utility. It’s a great choice for runners 6-feet and under.
It has a three-zone running surface, which has more cushioning where your foot lands, and less where you toe off. The middle section is in-between, facilitating the transition for a more comfortable ride. Overall, the deck creates a cushy feel, with little resemblance to road running. That may rankle some, but it’s great for recovery runs, splitting up training days, and for runners who want to minimize impact as much as possible.
It doesn’t have a fancy screen or bright board, but what it lacks in bells and whistles, it makes up with functionality. It does not sync with Apple or Samsung watches, but you can link up with apps like Strava and Peloton. There’s also a free app you can use called atZone, with tons of options for workouts and gorgeous courses. For entertainment, there’s dedicated space for your iPad that sits at just the right height, so you can watch your favorite true crime show to get you through the miles.
The six pre-designed programs are fine. They’re nothing exciting, but they get the job done. On the board, you can see your calories burned, heart rate, distance, speed, and incline without being distracted by anything else. It has 10-percent incline and 10 speeds, clocking out at about a 6-minute miles. At the higher inclines, it does feel a bit wobbly, with a noticeable rock at higher speeds.
I like the speed and incline dials, but it should be noted that the speed and incline dials are sensitive. That means that if you’re not paying close attention, you could end up going way faster than you want. Note that it’s one haptic notch, not one spin of the dial to increase your speed.
The deck is on the shorter side, but if you’re 6-feet or under, you’re likely fine. The arms are short enough that you don’t feel like you’re boxed in, but they are long enough that you also have enough arm to grab when you need to.
One standout feature that I love about this treadmill is how easy it folds. It has a one step hydraulic lift that could not be any easier to operate. You just lift the back end, and it folds itself up. When you want to release it, you toe the bar in the center of the folded treadmill, and it comes down with extremely minimal assistance.
There simply isn’t a treadmill I’ve run on that can beat the solid features of this treadmill at this price. It’s not for everyone: Specifically, skip it if you’re going to run a million miles, or if you’re a speed demon, or if you’re tall. For everybody else, it’s pretty good.
Horizon T101 Treadmill Review
Best For Max Mileage
Centr T7S
Key Specs
| Belt | 22” (W) x 60” (L) |
|---|---|
| Max speed | 12 mph |
| Max Incline | 18% |
| Max Decline | N/A |
| Motor | 5.0 HP |
| Weight Limit | 350 lbs |
TL;DR The Centr T7S treadmill impresses right from the start with its stable, well-cushioned, and spacious running surface. Built tough with a heavy-duty frame and a powerful 5-horsepower motor, it feels durable and smooth for most workouts. While its built-in programs are limited, it easily supports streaming apps for entertainment. Overall, it’s a premium, reliable machine that justifies its higher price with excellent build quality and user comfort.
I have rarely been impressed with a treadmill within the first few miles, but that’s where I found myself when I got on the Centr T7S. Seriously, I fell in love with this one the moment I hopped on. It’s one of my absolute favorites I’ve tested this year, and it really stands out, especially when you consider the solid programming and training options. I’ve been on over 60 treadmills this last year, logging over 750 miles, but this one just felt right.
This thing is a true performance machine, as Dengate noted to me, and I couldn’t agree more. The stable and well-cushioned (but not over cushioned) running experience is fantastic. The robust, non-folding frame gives it a solid feel. It’s built for heavy use and feels like it’ll last for years. It’s definitely a heavy-duty piece of equipment, and that’s a good thing because you know it can withstand a lot.
The 60-inch belt is ample, and I felt like I had plenty of room for my stride. One of our faster testers mentioned feeling close to the motor cover during some interval changes, but for me, the surface felt wonderful and open. Mallory Creveling, deputy health and fitness editor, praised the spacious feel and the lower screen position, and I second that. The low-profile handlebars and console with those paddle controls for speed were also a hit for me. They’re right at lower hip height for taller runners, and a hair below chest height for shorter runners, making it reachable for a variety of groups.
The 5-horsepower motor is more than enough for most workouts. Speed adjustments were smooth, though some folks might want quicker transitions. Hitting top speeds for fast intervals might take a bit longer than running outdoors, but that’s pretty standard for treadmills.
While there are fewer built-in workout programs than on some competitors like NordicTrack’s iFit, it’s easy to prop up a tablet for customized training. Plus, it’s simple to just plug into Netflix, YouTube, or even Disney+. (Thanks, Thor — I mean Centr founder Chris Hemsworth.)
If you’re looking for an all-around ’mill with a great feel and built to last, this is a solid choice. It’s definitely pricier than some other options, but the build quality, cushioning, and heavy-duty motor make it a really formidable pick. Honestly, the price feels justified when you’re actually on it and experiencing the smooth, stable, and comfortable ride.
Best Hop-On-and-Run Machine
Horizon 7.0 Treadmill
Key Specs
| Running Surface (W x L) | 20 x 60 in. |
|---|---|
| Max Speed | 12 mph |
| Max Incline | 15% |
| Max Decline | N/A |
| Motor | 3.0 HP |
| Weight Limit | 325 lb. |
| Treadmill Weight | 277 lb. |
| Programs | 7 |
| Features | Bluetooth speakers; connectivity with Peloton, Apple Watch, and Samsung Galaxy Watch |
TL;DR The Horizon 7.0 is a solid mid-range treadmill with a cushioned 60-inch deck and easy app syncing, ideal for runners with long strides—though its 20-inch belt can feel narrow. It features smooth Peloton and smartwatch integration, convenient speed knobs, and a near eye-level tablet holder for distraction-free workouts. Though it’s bulky and assembly is a hassle, the performance and value at around $1,000 are hard to beat. Just expect some bounce at higher inclines and a slight lag when reducing speed.
This Horizon model is a step up from our Best Budget choice, and a solid ’mill with a long 60-inch deck that I found to be suitable for my long stride, though the narrow 20-inch belt does feel a bit tight if your mind tends to wander on your runs. The deck itself has a nice amount of cushioning, making longer runs feel less taxing overall. However, I did notice a bit of bounce when you increase the incline over 5 percent, so if you’re a runner who likes to do speedy hill work or training for Pikes Peak, this is not your machine.
The body of the Horizon 7.0 folding treadmill is on the bulkier side. It resembles something closer to what you’d expect at your local YMCA. But the integrated features make for an easy setup and run. One thing about the body we appreciated was the fact that when you put your tablet in the holder, it is nearly eye-level with most runners. I only had to slightly cast my gaze down to watch the programs I was playing on my iPad.
Below that tablet holder is the combination digital and manual console, fan, Bluetooth speakers, and two cup holders that are generously wide but still a bit shallower than I would prefer. There is enough room to hold your water bottle, earbuds case, and a towel in the cupholders, though, which kind of makes up for the shallow basins.
As for programming, this treadmill stands out for its ability to link to Peloton, Apple Watch, and Samsung Galaxy watches. (Yes, it has a few canned running options that are exactly what you’d expect from this style of treadmill.) You can read your calories, distance, and more right in front of you. I ran a few Peloton classes on this machine, and the sync was smooth and the transitions easy.
Another gem about this machine: knobs on the grips easily allow you to increase your pace without interrupting your stride. It is the easiest speed adjustment on the market, but we did notice that there is some lag when bumping down to a slower speed than with some other treads. It’s a subtle lag, though, and if you’re running that top speed of 12 mph regularly, you likely won’t even notice.
For about $1,000 on sale, it is going to be hard to find a more capable treadmill. The combination of convenience and comfort make this ’mill a standout. I do suggest the white-glove delivery service because assembly is a bit of a pain, and this thing is heavy as heck.
Most Interactive Treadmill
Aviron Victory
Key Specs
| Running Surface (W x L) | 20.5″ (W) x 57″ (L) |
|---|---|
| Max speed | 12.5 mph |
| Max Incline | 12% |
| Max Decline | Not specified |
| Motor | 3.5 CHP commercial-grade motor |
| Weight Limit | 400 lbs |
TL;DR The Aviron Victory Treadmill stands out with its unique gamified experience, featuring a vibrant 22-inch touchscreen, real-time competitions, and arcade-style games that make runs feel like play. It offers responsive “Cloud Stride” cushioning, intuitive touchscreen and toggle controls, and solid performance up to 12.5 mph—all while staying impressively quiet. Though the 57-inch deck can feel a bit short for taller runners and it lacks a fan, the sturdy, low-profile build and engaging software more than make up for it. It’s not compact or foldable, but for entertainment-driven workouts, it’s a fun and motivating choice.
If you ever find yourself bored to tears on the treadmill (who hasn’t?) and thought, “This would be more fun with some games or entertainment,” or, say, you just hate the regular monotony of a treadmill run, I have the treadmill for you. The Aviron Victory treadmill: a first-of-its-kind gamified treadmill that has a giant, 22-inch screen and built-in arcade games that are powered by your running as well as various competitions, races, and challenges available in the app.
The vibrant 22-inch HD touch screen makes the several games and training programs come to life. I found myself getting so into the games and competitions that I almost forgot I was testing the machine and not just having a fun run. I mean, seriously, the mill’s real-time tracking and live leaderboards add that competitive edge that really pushes you to go the extra mile. (I hate myself for that play on words, too.)
The “Cloud Stride” cushioning provides a nice balance, offering a responsive feel that’s closer to running on the road rather than an overly plush experience. It’s there, but it won’t drain you or feel unstable underfoot.
Instead of traditional buttons, speed and incline adjustments are managed through the touch screen and hand toggles located below the board. This took a moment to get used to, but once I did, I found it quite intuitive. The hand toggles offer relatively smooth and comfortable adjustments, and tapping or holding them allows for precise or bolder changes, respectively. This is also how many aspects of the games work; by increasing or decreasing incline or speed you control the action on the game.
The 12 percent incline is adequate for most workouts, whether you’re looking for a steady climb or an interval session. The speed adjustments happen at a comfortable pace, powered by a 3.5 CHP commercial-grade motor that reaches up to 12.5 mph. And at just 57 dB, it’s reasonably quiet.
The overall design is sleek and low to the ground, at just 4-inches high, which provides a stable and grounded feel. This low step-on height also makes this ’mill a great choice for seniors looking for a fun walking treadmill for active living. It’s easy to step on and off, making it accessible for all fitness levels. However, if I could change one thing, it would be the size of the deck. As a taller runner at 6-feet, when I’m really engaged in the games, I sometimes found myself wishing for a bit more length and width. There were a few times when I got distracted and nearly ran onto the motor cover or hit the back of the deck. It’s not a short deck by any means at 57-inches long, but those few inches make a huge difference.
Aviron backs this machine with a 10-year warranty on the drive motor, which is reassuring given its robust build and 400 lb weight capacity. However, that robust build and enormous screen means that this ‘mill isn’t as portable or good on storage as other treadmills on this list. It’s not foldable, and it’s not particularly compact.
The integrated speakers provide decent sound for the games and programs, and the front-facing camera is a fun addition for capturing your “Victory shot!” which is a thing on this treadmill that I truly believe you can live without. One thing I really missed, though, was an on-board fan. I am a sweaty lady, and I like a fan to blow in my face as I run. The Victory doesn’t have one. What it does have are two deep and wide water bottle holders, which I really like, and nicely proportioned “oh crap” side bars and rails.
Overall, the Aviron Victory Treadmill offers a fun and engaging workout experience. The gamified aspect, combined with the large screen and smooth adjustments, makes it a unique and worthwhile investment. While a slightly larger deck would be ideal for taller users, the positives definitely outweigh the negatives.
Easiest to Move Around
Sole F80 Treadmill
Key Specs
| Running Surface (W x L) | 22 x 60 in. |
|---|---|
| Max Speed | 12 mph |
| Max Incline | 15% |
| Max Decline | N/A |
| Motor | 3.5 HP |
| Weight Limit | 375 lb. |
| Treadmill Weight | 274 lb. |
| Programs | 10 preloaded with Sole Studio, Sole+, and pre-programmed applications like Spotify |
| Features | 10-in. screen; wireless charging; Bluetooth speakers; tablet holder |
TL;DR The Sole F80 is a sturdy, easy-to-move treadmill with a roomy 22- x 60-inch deck and a road-like feel, making it great for taller runners and serious speedwork. Its intuitive speed toggles offer smooth, fast adjustments, though the console buttons skip some speeds and the fan is underwhelming. While the 10-inch screen is small, features like wireless phone charging, solid Bluetooth speakers, and a tablet holder make it easy to use your own apps. Overall, it’s a quiet, well-built treadmill with great value—just opt for professional assembly.
The Sole F80 is a sturdy treadmill that’s made to be easy to move around. The wheels really do work on this machine, and whether you’re moving it to store, or just adjusting for daylight, you can maneuver it.
It features a road-like feel underfoot. In that regard, it’s more like the Centr than the NordicTracks. Unlike the Centr, though, this ’mill is less compact, with a 22- by-60-inch running area. It is bulkier than the Centr, too, but the Z-shaped body keeps you from running up onto the front of the machine, and it brings everything up a few inches, making it far more comfortable for taller runners. I had my 6-foot-4-inch brother-in-law hop on for a few runs, and he was able to stay on the belt, reach the controls and handlebars, and grab his drink easily.
Our team of testers love this treadmill for speed work. It has manual speed adjustments like those featured on the Horizon above, with the toggle right at the bar, allowing for completely seamless, interference-free speed adjustments. The time between speeds is quick, and just a bit faster than that of the NordicTrack models. It goes all the way up to 12 mph, so you’re able to basically fly on this ’mill.
Annoyingly, though, the large buttons on the side of the console skip speeds, choosing some common choices and prioritizing those. If you want to go between those speeds, you need to use the toggle to do so. Also, where is the manual volume button for the speakers?
Sole Studio programming is available for about $40 per month. And the basic Sole+ is also pretty good, especially for the price (free!). But you don’t need it to hop on and get going. You can choose one of the 10 pre-programmed runs, or connect your phone and use the screen mirroring function to follow along a Peloton or other app’s workout.
One feature I liked was wireless charging. It kept my phone going through all 20 miles of my workout, even while running multiple apps, and makes up for the fact that the 10-inch screen is a bit on the small side. The Bluetooth speakers, though, have some oomph, and combined with the fact that this is a quieter treadmill, the sound shines.
There is a tablet holder, and our testers found it fit most of the tablets we put in it. Once we placed our tablet, we cared not at all about the small screen and lack of programs, because we let our apps lead the way.
One thing about the console I really didn’t like is the fan. It doesn’t do a great job, and if you grab this treadmill, you need a fan in the room.
That being said, this ’mill has a robust warranty and is good value all around. We suggest paying the extra for assembly, which is $350 through Sole. It’s simply too easy to mess up, and too heavy to maneuver before it is put together.
Best Folding Treadmill
NordicTrack Commercial 2450 Treadmill
Key Specs
| Running Surface (W x L) | 22 x 60 in. |
|---|---|
| Max Speed | 14 mph |
| Max Incline | 12% |
| Max Decline | -3% |
| Motor | 4.25 CHP |
| Weight Limit | 400 lb. |
| Treadmill Weight | 303 lb. |
| Programs | 10,000+ with iFit subscription |
| Features | 24-in. touchscreen; AutoBreeze fan adjusts to your speed; ActivePulse adjusts treadmill to your heart rate zone; iFit syncs with Strava, Apple Heath, Google Fit, and Garmin Connect; Amazon Prime, Spotify, and Netflix integration |
TL;DR The NordicTrack 2450 is a sturdy, folding treadmill built for serious runners, with solid cushioning, a spacious running deck, and a smart, minimalist design that keeps everything within reach. It adjusts speed and incline quickly—perfect for speedwork—and offers pre-programmed runs plus thousands of iFit workouts, including real marathon routes. The large screen is great for streaming shows mid-workout, but the machine is a bit noisy and assembly is a challenge unless you opt for professional help.
The NordicTrack 2450 is what you seek if you’re looking for a folding treadmill that can handle the abuse of a marathoner or even a family of runners. It’s durable, with fantastic mid-level cushioning that is neither too responsive or too firm, a large running surface area of 22-by-60 inches, and even though there’s no cushion adjustment, your runs will remain bounce free.
Are you a console hugger? Me too. There’s nothing that’s going to be in your way, and you’re not going to step on the belt cover either thanks to the Z-shaped handlebar and crossbar design that positions you in the right place to keep those feet on the belt, even if you tend to stay at the front of the ’mill. It’s a fairly minimalist design with everything out of the way but still easily in reach, even for taller runners. (You won’t need to reach to grab your water like you do on the Centr below.)
For speedwork, you’ll find the speed and incline adjustments pretty standard for the species. It can go from 6 to 14 mph in under 10 seconds, a solid speed adjustment for those 400s and 800s, letting you fall into stride comfortably.
One thing we love is that you can pre-program your own course. That’s only when it comes to time, speed, and incline, though. This ’mill has the same quick keys as the 1750, with the same ease of use, but also the same drawbacks with needing to skip around to find the right speed.
The NordicTrack is better with its iFit programming, though. There are thousands of workouts available, including marathon courses like Boston and New York City. Dengate quips: “On one run, I joined my buddy (and host of RW’s Master the Half Marathon video series) Knox Robinson for a mountain run in South Africa. He didn’t know we were running together!”
Yes, there is an additional cost for this service, but the way it keeps you motivated and interested is worth it in our opinion.
The display is large and in charge. And one of the fun things about it is that you can stop running and leave the entertainment going. Kahler loves the fact that he can step off for a strength training session and keep his Netflix show on play. Binge viewing has never been better for your health.
I do need to mention that this is a thing to assemble. The instructions are reasonably clear, but there’s a lot going on. NordicTrack does have builders in most areas of the United States, and unless you’re handy and strong, I’d suggest you go that route. Also, while this isn’t the loudest machine on our list by a long shot, you’re not going to want to do even a walking workout with someone sleeping in the house. As a mom, I’ve made the error in my parenting life of trying this with different ’mills. It’s almost never a good idea.
TL;DR The NordicTrack XP 10i is a compact, foldable treadmill that delivers premium features in a smaller, more affordable package—ideal for everyday runners short on space or budget. It offers smooth speed/incline transitions, solid cushioning, and iFit compatibility, though its 20- x 55-inch deck and 10 mph top speed may limit more advanced training. The 10-inch screen is functional but not cinematic, and the incline motor is oddly loud (though still performs well). At $1,500 it’s not cheap, but frequent sales often make it a strong value.
The NordicTrack XP 10i treadmill is for runners who want the top-of-its-class features and quality of brand, but don’t have the size or cash for one of its commercial treadmills. This is a slimmed-down, more-compact model that folds up and stores more easily than the 1750 or 2450 models.
This does mean that the running surface is smaller at 20-by-55 inches, and it tops out at 10 mph, but this is still a good size machine and just right for most runners. It has everything you expect from NordicTrack machines, including easy-to-operate controls, smooth transitions between speeds and inclines, a Z-shaped body that keeps you on the belt, and just enough cushioned responsiveness to take a little of the pressure off of your knees and hips.
iFit is available on this ’mill, instantly upgrading the experience. The screen is smaller on this machine than others, as is the whole console. At 10 inches, it’s not a tiny screen, but also not the greatest theatrical experience—especially if you’re near-sighted.
I noticed that when you raise the incline, it sounds kind of like a trumpeting elephant. It’s oddly loud, and kind of startling at first, but it has no bearing on the quality of the incline, speed with which it rises, or performance. It’s just weird.
The Bluetooth speakers pack some punch as well, so if you turn it all the way up thinking you need to make up for the fact it’s smaller and less costly than the commercial treadmills, hold onto your hat.
At $1,600, this is still not an entry-level treadmill. But there are often big sales on these bad boys that make up the difference.
Best Entry-Level Treadmill
ProForm Carbon TLX
Key Specs
| Running Surface (W x L) | 20 x 60 in. |
|---|---|
| Max Speed | 8 mph |
| Max Incline | 12% |
| Max Decline | N/A |
| Motor | 1.6 HP |
| Weight Limit | 350 lb. |
| Treadmill Weight | 249 lb. |
| Programs | iFit Library |
| Features | Bluetooth speakers and connectivity |
TL;DR The Pro-Form Carbon TLX is a no-frills, well-built treadmill that delivers strong performance and simplicity—ideal for focused, distraction-free running. It features a roomy 60- by 20-inch deck, responsive cushioning, and quick transitions up to 12 mph and 12 percent incline, making it great for speedwork. While it lacks advanced tech, it supports app connections like iFit and has a surprisingly effective fan. For budget-conscious runners or first-time buyers, it’s a solid, reliable choice.
The Pro-Form Carbon TLX is a great machine that’s solidly built and offers great performance, but with few bells and whistles. And basic, simple treadmills for runners can be a beautiful thing. Limiting distractions during a workout can keep you focused in ways you don’t expect.
Sure, you can connect your phone or tablet to control the machine, and you can even link it to iFit or other apps. But at its core, the Pro-Form Carbon TLX is a ’mill for the ’mill’s sake. It’s a workhorse that you can hop on at any time, get a solid few miles in, and hop back off without any fuss.
It has a fairly responsive and cushioned surface that tends towards bounciness at higher speeds. But our testers noted that even with the softer surface, they fell into their run fairly easily thanks to the larger 60- by 20-inch deck. I did note that I occasionally felt like I was going to run up onto the front of the treadmill, so if you’re a console hugger, consider the Horizon above instead.
This tread is a speed runner’s dream. The Carbon TLX gets up to 12 mph in a matter of seconds, and smoothly gliding between speeds with easy manual buttons on the front. The incline rises up to 12 percent, so if you want to really feel your butt for a few days, have at it. Even running at decent inclines feels good (as good as running uphill can ever feel).
I love the fan on this treadmill. It hits all the needed spots for me, and it really blows that air. Any woman who has done the “lift the boobs to get air” maneuver will know what I’m talking about.
If you’re looking to buy your first treadmill, or maybe you’re just looking to stay in budget, it’s hard to do better than the Carbon TLX for the money.
Best for Road Runners
Centr Runr-S Treadmill
Key Specs
| Running Surface (W x L) | 20 x 55 in. |
|---|---|
| Max Speed | 10 mph |
| Max Incline | 12% |
| Max Decline | N/A |
| Motor | 3.0 HP |
| Weight Limit | 300 lb. |
| Treadmill Weight | 194 lb. |
| Programs | 25 |
| Features | 10-in. touchscreen; Bluetooth speakers; connectivity with heart rate monitors; YouTube, Netflix, Disney+, Amazon Prime Video, Facebook, Spotify, and Kinomap pre-installed |
TL;DR The Runr-S Treadmill is a firm, stable machine ideal for road runners who prefer a pavement-like feel over plush cushioning. Its compact 55- by 20-inch deck suits average-sized runners, but may feel tight for taller users, and while speed adjustments are smooth, the 10 mph max and slow incline transitions may frustrate speed-focused athletes. Despite some quirks—like oddly placed quick keys, loud operation, and non-adjustable screen—the built-in streaming apps and sleek design make it a solid, no-frills option for indoor training. It’s a good value pick for those who prioritize realism and minimalism over luxury features.
Dengate says that this treadmill “is one of the firmest” he’s ever run on, and he appreciates that. He loves that the Runr-S is designed for road runners who don’t want a ton of bounce and cushioning, instead preferring the harder feel underfoot you get if you were running outside on the pavement. It is a firm and stable surface that lets you better gage how your body would feel if you were running outdoors. Though he did note that at 1 percent incline, it’s a bit softer and quieter.
The deck and the belt are a hair cramped. At 55 inches long and 20 inches wide, it’s at our minimum recommended size (for running). If you’re over 6-feet tall, have a longer stride, or if you tend to shift your stance, this isn’t your treadmill.
The body of the Runr-S is sleeker than most of the ’mills on this list, with thin handlebars and crossbar. This provides a more open feel when you’re on the treadmill, but the sleekness also makes the handles a bit lower, and the same is true for the console and water bottle holder. Anyone above 5-feet-10-inches is going to need to reach a bit to get to them. This isn’t a problem when you’re adjusting your pace, but it is annoying when you’re reaching for hydration.
Speed changes are easy on this machine, but the max speed is 10 mph. That’s fine for the vast majority of runners, but if you’re a speed demon, you may be disappointed. The 3-horsepower motor lacks some of the get-up-and-go of pricier machines, taking about 10 seconds to get from a mid speed to the max speed, but unless you’re doing really serious speed work, you should be OK.
One thing you should know is that if you pause your workout, it will restart at whatever speed you were running when you paused—even 10 mph. It does warn you on-screen, but if you’re not paying attention you might end up starting out faster than expected. And the incline adjustment is, in Dengate’s opinion, “glacially slow,” taking 37 seconds to get to the max incline.
Dengate also noted some oddness about the controls. He says: “The Runr-S has quick keys in two locations, which makes it weird. On the crossbar, you have even numbers 2 through 8. But, on an on-screen pop-out menu, you can select from the odd-numbered mph options 1 through 9. The same goes for incline, which goes up to 12 percent.”
This is also one of the loudest machines we’ve ever tested. Like we mentioned earlier, there is some ability for mitigation of this by increasing the incline, but that’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea.
The programs and options, though, are top shelf. Even though the screen is smaller than on some other machines, you can stream YouTube, Netflix, Disney+, Prime, Max, and Hulu, get on Facebook, X, Instagram, Spotify, Chrome, and Kinomap. Centr has its own runners programming that you can tap into, and the volume controls are good. You cannot tilt the screen, though, which limits your viewing angle and can create some discomfort over a long haul.
This is a great option for road runners and walkers who occasionally need to take their training indoors. It’s a solid machine at a solid price, and it looks pretty good in your gym.
Best Belt Design
Bowflex T9 Treadmill
Now 50% Off
Key Specs
| Running Surface (W x L) | 22 x 60 in. |
|---|---|
| Max Speed | 12 mph |
| Max Incline | 15% |
| Max Decline | N/A |
| Motor | 3.5 HP |
| Weight Limit | 350 lb. |
| Treadmill Weight | 282 lb. |
| Programs | 8 built-in programs, JRNY, Peloton, Zwift |
| Features | Folding design; fan |
TL; DR The Bowflex T9 is a solid entry-level treadmill with a firm, comfortable running surface and a helpful center-line guide to keep you on track. While its controls and incline adjustments are sluggish and a bit clunky to use, it makes up for that with app compatibility (including Peloton, Zwift, and Apple Watch), a large tablet holder, and convenient speed toggles. Its compact foldable design, quiet operation, and 350-lb weight capacity add to its appeal. Though not the most responsive machine, it’s a capable and well-rounded choice for casual runners and home workouts.
Sometimes, the smallest design choice can make a big difference to the overall feel of a machine. Such is the case with the Bowflex T9 treadmill, according to Dengate. On the belt of the ’mill is a red line in the center that acts like a guide to keep you centered. If you’re someone like Dengate or I, who happen to meander a bit during your runs, having something as seemingly insignificant as a dashing red line down the middle of the belt can help keep you on track.
As for how it feels when you’re running on that surface, it’s a firm, no nonsense, comfortable run. However, because of where the legs are on the machine, you may feel a bit penned in, because they are at roughly the same place where your feet land when you’re running. It’s not a huge impact, according to Dengate, but it’s noticeable. The handlebars are pretty short, but give you just enough “Oh crap, I need to grab on” space.
You may be a bit disappointed with the controls. Timely and responsive, they are not. It has a bit of a slower get up and go, and the same thing goes for the incline adjust. I found the speed decrease to be a bit more ready, but still, this could be improved in future models.
You can pre-plan a workout, and make use of the interval settings, which is nice. But as opposed to other ’mills that you set for distance or time with exacting specifics, with the T9, you’re limited to setting them to the tenth of a mile. Setting these intervals is also sort of a pain with button holding and speed setting that has you stuck holding the controls for a while.
That being said, this is a solid entry-level machine. While the controls are irritating, you get the ability to use the brand’s app, hook up to Peloton or Zwift, or set up your Apple watch to do your workout. The board is very similar to that of the Horizon, with an oversized tablet holder, and the toggles on the grips and on the board itself. It’s relatively quiet, folds up easily thanks to the hydraulic lift assist, and the 350-pound weight limit is impressive.
FAQs With Physical Therapist
With Allison Greer, PT, DPT, SCS, physical therapist at The Hospital for Special Surgery
What are the potential benefits for walking or running on a treadmill vs outdoors?
It’s predictable. Greer says that it “allows the runner to precisely set and control all parameters, including speed, incline, and duration. This is especially beneficial for walkers or runners who are systematically progressing back into activity, either after injury, time away, new to running, or runners completing a specific workout.”
It also helps you stay consistent, which is critical when training. “Given the benefits of accessibility and predictability, a treadmill can help to promote a more consistent exercise routine.”
What are some of the potential risks of treadmill training/use?
There are risks for specific treadmill injuries. “Recent literature shows some differences in biomechanics between running on a treadmill vs overground. Differences in biomechanics result in tissues being loaded differently, specifically increased loading of the Achilles tendon with treadmill running.”
When you run outdoors, your body encounters different obstacles that help strengthen it. “Walking/running on the treadmill does not allow the diversification of movements and muscle activity required in comparison to outdoor walking/running. For example, up/down hills, turning, stepping onto curb or over puddle.”
You might exert yourself more. There is evidence to suggest that “runners report a higher rate of perceived exertion (RPE) when running on a treadmill vs overground.”
You need to know yourself and your limits to be safe. “Treadmills allow the walker/runner to easily increase the belt speed, however, make sure the speed does not exceed that which you are able to run safe and that you can continue to run with your normal running mechanics.”
Tips for safe treadmill training?
- Hold onto the handrails for stability as speed changes.
- “Perform an appropriate warm-up before working out, and a cool down after working out (e.g., gradually increasing speed to allow heart rate to rise and lower, respectively).”
Treadmill Installation
How to Install a Treadmill Safely at Home
Treadmills are a big piece of exercise equipment, and they can be dangerous if not installed properly and monitored when in use. That is why we spoke with Ed Pryts, Chief Sales Officer at Gym Source, a 30 year treadmill industry veteran, to learn the most important safety factors before you purchase a new treadmill for your home.
- Check your ceiling clearance by adding 15 inches to your body height. So, if you are 6-feet ball, you need at least a 7-foot, 3-inch high ceiling. Behind the treadmill there should be at least 3 feet of unobstructed space.
- Make sure all four contact points of the treadmill are solidly on the floor and that the floor is stable. Positioning a treadmill close to a wall can increase stability.
- If there’s another apartment or bedroom below the treadmill’s room, adding a treadmill mat will significantly deaden the transmitted noise in these situations.
- If you’re moving a treadmill into a basement or smaller room, hire experts. But if you insist on DIY, move and install the deck first, followed by the uprights and console. Either way, check the dimensions of the base and make sure you have clearance for tight corners.
- If possible, dedicate an electrical circuit to the treadmill. Additional appliances plugged into that circuit can lead to a power overload and an inadvertent shutdown.
- Unplug the treadmill when not in use. Accidental starts and stops are some of the biggest factor in child injury on and around treadmills every year. (We recommend adding a cord wrapper to the cord when not in use.)
Cat Bowen has been covering parenting and home for over a decade. At Best Products, she has tested hundreds of products for parents and for the home, often spending dozens of hours per product to ensure her reviews are accurate and informative. Prior to joining the team, she was at Romper where she covered everything from breastfeeding to child sleep habits to abortion rights access. You can find her work on Bustle, Romper, and more. Cat is a bit of an intellectual magpie and perpetual student, most recently receiving a graduate degree in gender studies where she examined a topic that vexes so many — pockets in women’s clothing.
Jeff is Runner-in-Chief for Runner’s World and the director of product testing. He has tested and reviewed running shoes, GPS watches, headphones, apparel, and more for nearly two decades. He regularly tests more than 100 pairs of shoes each year, and once had a 257-day streak running in different models. Jeff can usually be found on the roads, racing anything from the mile to a marathon, but he also enjoys racing up mountains and on snowshoes. When he’s not running, you’ll probably find him hanging from a ladder making repairs and renovations to his house (he’s also director of product testing for Popular Mechanics).
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Each day, thousands of women, myself included, engage in a ritual. We flail our arms like orchestra conductors. We wiggle our rib cages. We get down on all fours and raise our knees to our ears. We roll on the floor. For up to 90 minutes, gathered together at studios or in front of our laptops, we perform The Method. We “do Tracy Anderson.”
The workout is not Pilates. It includes dance cardio, but it is not dance cardio. Though some moves are inspired by ballet, it is not the Bar Method. Anderson, who rose to fame training celebrities such as Gwyneth Paltrow and Madonna, does not wish to be referred to as a trainer. She describes herself as a “self-made scholar” and an artist who has created a “canon of work.” The movements, she told me, are a combination of choreography (“being creative with the biomechanics of what’s possible in our body”) and science (understanding movement from “a body and energy perspective”).
Wander around the Hamptons or Tribeca and you might notice solitary men in T-shirts explaining their solitude: MY WIFE IS AT TRACY. Ordinary people like me can do prerecorded workouts online for $90 a month, but membership at one of Anderson’s studios is a status symbol, the fitness equivalent of waterfront property. Her empire includes eight locations: in Manhattan (one in Tribeca and one in Midtown), the Hamptons (one in Water Mill and one in Sag Harbor), Los Angeles (one in Studio City and one in Santa Monica), and Madrid. Her newest studio is in Bozeman, Montana.
Studio membership costs upwards of $10,000 a year. Many clients spend far more, opting for private sessions designed by the Prescription Team. If you want to train with Anderson in person, you can book a spot during “Vitality Week” (actually a long weekend) for $5,000. I know one woman—a successful entrepreneur married to an even more successful financier—who budgets $36,000 a year for her Tracy Anderson body. (For the record: She looks amazing.)
In addition to legions of rich wives and women who work in the beauty and fashion industries, fans of The Method include celebrities and entrepreneurs: Tracee Ellis Ross, Jennifer Lopez, the power Realtor Claudia Saez-Fromm, the New York City political lobbyist Suri Kasirer. When the cash-strapped developer Brandon Miller committed suicide last year, many blamed it on the pressure that he and his wife felt to keep up with their Hamptons neighbors. She did Tracy Anderson every morning.
I’ve heard rumors of powerful women threatening to blacklist people from joining the studio. I’ve heard that byzantine rules govern the hierarchy of spots near the front of the class. For years, the tabloids have been full of stories about feuds between Anderson and former trainers she believes stole her moves. She built an empire on the perception that she was a glamorous fitness doll, and now she doesn’t want to be perceived as a glamorous fitness doll. She wants to be taken seriously.
Anderson’s goal is to transform how people think about the mind and the body, and to prove that her workout is her own intellectual property, both an art and a science. She’s created “thousands” of moves, she told me, and “done actual studies.” She compared herself to Leonardo da Vinci, who, just like her, “used his scientific knowledge to enhance his art.”
Tracy Anderson devotees can buy clothes in her workout line, or her exact ankle weights, or Tracy Anderson magazine, which includes testimonials from famous studio members, plant-based recipes created by a team of chefs, and photos of Anderson modeling thousand-dollar designer sweaters over workout gear. Her Instagram features slick videos of Tracy Anderson, the trainer, performing Tracy Anderson, The Method, while wearing Tracy Anderson, the brand. Yet there is very little of Tracy Anderson, the person, available. She existed for me—as she does for so many others—in her workout videos as a silent body in motion, upon which we could project our feelings about our own bodies.
And then, one day last November, I came face-to-face with her. This was no ordinary celebrity sighting. For years, I’d been emulating this woman’s every move. When she wiggled, I wiggled. When she shook her hips, I shook my hips. When she went into a full split and rolled backwards onto the floor before scissoring her legs in the air, I … waited for the next exercise.
Anderson greeted me at the door of her house in Brentwood, California, followed by a pack of beautiful dogs, including a cavapoo, standard poodles, and another breed I couldn’t place. It turned out to be the product of the male cavapoo and a female poodle that had fallen “madly in love,” according to Anderson. When they “anatomically could not express themselves to their fullest ability,” Anderson asked science to step in. “They deserve to be helped because they were trying so hard to procreate that his, like, his male parts were bleeding.” The poodle was artificially inseminated, and they went on to have eight puppies.
Her way of speaking—warm and Midwest-earnest—makes even something as outrageous as doggy IVF seem like a gesture of compassion. In that moment, all I felt was happiness for those dogs. Shouldn’t we all be able to express our love?
Anderson grew up on a small ranch in Noblesville, Indiana, surrounded by goats, geese, and turkeys. Her mother ran a dance studio. Her father worked in his family’s furniture business, but was also a poet and chess enthusiast. Anderson described the household as “sometimes middle-class, sometimes not.” One day she’d be told she could buy new school clothes; the next, she’d be told the family was out of money and she’d have to return them. Her parents had dueling ambitions for their daughter. Because she was good at chess, her father imagined her as a future lawyer. But because she excelled at dance, her mother imagined her on Broadway. For a time, her mother’s plan won out.
At 18, she moved to New York to study at the American Musical and Dramatic Academy. It was the early ’90s. She found a job at the Gap and lived on $5 ATM withdrawals and H&H bagels with mustard and tomato because she couldn’t afford turkey. Just 5 feet tall, Anderson didn’t have the “dancer’s body” she was told she needed. She dieted, considered taking up smoking, and eventually, demoralized, left school.
She got engaged to the former NBA player and Hoosier legend Eric Anderson, whom she had met while playing a cheerleader in the movie Blue Chips. In a few years, they were married; living in Indiana with their son, Sam; and running a facility for youth sports and dance. They were young and inexperienced, and fell behind on rent and closed the facility. They opened a Pilates studio, then closed that too. In February 2005, judges ordered the Andersons to pay $334,375 in unpaid bills. In April, they filed for bankruptcy.
But Anderson also co-owned another studio that had a branch in Los Angeles, and she was developing her theories around fitness. She had long been fascinated by Olympians, such as swimmers and gymnasts, whose physiques were shaped by the repetitive motions of their sports, and wondered if she could design a series of movements to shape the dancer’s body that had long evaded her. After what she describes as a period of research and study, she came up with a program to strengthen the major muscle groups while working smaller “accessory” muscles through a series of repetitive rotations and movements. In L.A., she introduced clients to a piece of modified Pilates equipment she called the Hybrid Body Reformer. One of these clients happened to be the wife of Gwyneth Paltrow’s agent at the time, Anderson told me. Paltrow, who’d recently had a baby, complimented the woman on her body. When Anderson tells her own story, this is usually where she begins.
Anderson has been famous since 2008. That year, in London, paparazzi photographed her with Madonna and Paltrow, both in sweaty workout gear. Suddenly, she was not just a trainer to the stars but the trainer to the stars. These were the glory days of celebrity magazines and gossip blogs, and Anderson was ubiquitous, proselytizing about how to get J.Lo’s butt or Gwyneth’s … anything. “I’m giving you Gwyneth’s legs right now,” she told a beauty reporter during a workout. “Trim and Trimmer!” a headline read.
In 2008, Paltrow invested in Anderson’s business. Anderson started planning another studio in New York and headed to London, to train and tour with Madonna. That same year, she and Eric divorced, and she released the Tracy Anderson Method: Mat Workout DVD, which laid out her fully developed theories for the first time.
“Genetically, we are all shaped differently, and we all have our own set of problem areas,” she says in the introduction. “The good news is it’s completely possible to reengineer your muscular structure any way you want”: to get “teeny tiny” arms and “feminine” abs and thighs without “bulking.” Central to the workout was silent instruction—she demonstrates the moves without speaking—and a near-torturous number of reps with very, very light weights.
The celebrity-lifestyle-obsessed late aughts were an ideal environment for what Anderson was selling. Fixating on “problem areas” was seen not as self-loathing, but as self-empowerment. Talking explicitly about working hard just to get skinny sounds awkward now that we live in an era that celebrates wellness and body positivity. Anderson seems to regret her role in the 2000s skinny-industrial complex, when she would tell people, “Let’s go; you can get teeny tiny!” But she said she had no choice: “I had to contribute to it too, or else nobody would do my workout.” Besides, “you can’t change a culture before it’s ready.”
Now any one of Anderson’s clients could be on Ozempic or Wegovy if she wanted to, and Anderson has to offer something beyond thinness. But although the way she talks about the moves has changed, the moves themselves have not.
Clients go to her because they “know that their body’s going to look the best that it can look,” she told me. “And they’re not going to go anywhere else, because they know how smart I am.”
Anderson is 50, a thrice-married mother of two. She doesn’t like to talk about hard times, but she’s definitely had them. Eric Anderson died in 2018 of a heart attack. “He was such an incredible human being and he was such an incredible father,” she told me. She said she always thought they might end up back together someday. Having to tell Sam that his father was dead was “the worst moment of my actual entire life.”
Two years after Eric died, during the early days of the coronavirus pandemic, the father of Anderson’s younger child, Penelope, died too, of a brain tumor. “I did not have the relationship with Penny’s dad that I had with Eric,” she told me. But she took Penelope to see him before he died, and thanked him for the gift of their daughter: “Penny’s part of both of us. And she’s extraordinary.”
When I pressed her to say more about what she’d learned from her experiences of loss, she told me she’d become “very understanding of people’s journeys”—even “the people that steal from me.” She said she always asks herself, “Gosh, what happened to them as a child? ”
The fact that Anderson has experienced death and divorce, debt and failure, is one reason I was drawn to her. I could relate. I divorced as a young woman, and I ran a small business through the Great Recession, and I was sick to my stomach for years worrying about the possibility of bankruptcy. Starting a business, losing a business, starting a new one—this is what entrepreneurs do. I also knew from experience that if you’ve spent years fighting for your business’s survival, you don’t take kindly to anyone you see as stepping on your turf.
I came to Tracy Anderson sometime in 2009 or 2010. My grandfather, who’d raised me, had just died, and I had been working frantically to save my company. In the process there had been a lot of stress eating and crying on my sofa, and the resulting weight gain created a new wave of sadness as I felt lost inside myself and my grief. I had seen Anderson in celebrity magazines and turned to one of her DVDs.
The Method made me thinner. But it also made me feel incredible. The choreography was so unusual—and the work so intense—that it required my full concentration, which eased my anxiety and helped me feel present in my body. Unlike yoga, where you were constantly being instructed, or fitness classes, where you were being “motivated,” Anderson didn’t talk at all, something I found incredibly soothing.
I have strayed over the years. I craved the dark, loud music of SoulCycle; I wanted to try running a marathon. I was making a TV show and was so sedentary, for so long, I developed sciatica and a slipped disk. But I’ve always come back to Tracy Anderson. (“Most of them always come back,” she told me.)
Anderson herself interested me, but I was hardly a member of the #TAmily, as fans have branded themselves online. (The hashtag is shared, a bit awkwardly, by the Tamil diaspora.) You’ll see gushing comments about how Anderson changes women’s lives, or questions about what brand of sneakers she’s wearing. “What a gift to learn from you,” one fan wrote on Instagram. “You talk to us like that beautiful sister that loves you so much and wants the very best for you,” wrote another.
Anderson says she doesn’t want to be a guru. Of the women who credit her with changing their lives, she said: “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t have me to thank; you have you to thank.” But in many ways, she encourages her clients’ feelings of intimacy. Occasionally, she’ll get on Zooms with dozens of studio members that are then preserved in a section of her website called “Conversations.” Women ask Anderson for advice on their diets and workouts and lives, but for a lot of the time, Anderson simply listens. If her Instagram videos are slickly produced, these calls are remarkably DIY. And long. One call last year ran for five hours.
Other aspects of the business remain frustratingly (or charmingly) mom-and-pop. Products—such as Kenko, four-pound minimalist weights made of Canadian maple—appear with great fanfare and then are rarely spoken of again. Members who pay (a lot!) to livestream classes often complain that they start late. Had someone forgotten to turn on the camera?
Many of Anderson’s peers have been bought out by wealthy corporations or private-equity firms. Barry’s (formerly Barry’s Bootcamp) was co-founded by Barry Jay in 1998 and is now owned by Princeton Equity Group, among others. SoulCycle was founded in 2006 by a spin instructor, Ruth Zukerman, and two of her clients before it was acquired by Equinox in 2011. Even CrossFit—known for its spartan gyms—was taken over by Berkshire Partners.
“To me, being bought someday by private equity is not in my—I don’t even hold space for that,” Anderson told me. “I’ve had people with their M.B.A.s mess up my business,” she said. “Fancy educations—Wharton on there, Stanford on there, Harvard on there.” But they didn’t have the right mindset, she said. Was she a control freak? “I’ll tell you what I was,” she replied. “I was a wild fucking stallion.”
Now she is married to Chris Asplundh, a scion of the Pennsylvania-based billion-dollar tree-trimming empire Asplundh Tree Expert. (Mehmet Oz is a relative through marriage; he used his in-laws’ address for his voter registration before his failed bid for a Pennsylvania U.S. Senate seat.) Asplundh bought out Anderson’s other investors. “This is a family business now,” she told me.
Anderson’s employees describe themselves as a family, too. Steven Beltrani, the company’s president, walked her down the aisle when she married Asplundh. Employees’ Instagram accounts are full of loving posts about one another. But every family has its fissures.
Megan Roup was hired to work for Anderson in 2011. Roup was a member of the #TAmily for six years—schooled in The Method and given access to training manuals and Anderson’s celebrity contacts. All of these surely proved valuable when Roup left and opened the Sculpt Society, a mostly online fitness class.
Roup quickly amassed many clients, some of whom—including the Victoria’s Secret model Shanina Shaik—had formerly trained with Anderson. When the pandemic forced fitness online, more people found their way to Roup. Anyone familiar with Anderson would recognize many of her signature moves in Roup’s workouts. Roup’s website stated that she had “seen something missing in the fitness industry,” and sought to fill this void. Anderson saw contractual violation and theft—and the latest in a long string of betrayals.
For nearly as long as Anderson has been famous, she has worried about her former trainers stealing her moves and clients. For good reason. By 2014, so many Anderson apostates were operating in New York City alone that one blogger took the trouble to rate them according to their “Level of Tracy-ness.” Anderson describes herself as “low conflict.” But most anyone who does her workouts and listens to the chats she delivers after class will be familiar with her bitterness toward the “rip-off trainers” who keep “stealing” her work. The frustration, at times, sounds more like paranoia.
Anderson didn’t name names publicly, but the tabloids were happy to report on her scuffles: The Daily Mail, for example, quoted an anonymous source saying that Nicole Winhoffer, who launched a DVD collection with Madonna’s backing, was “overweight” before she started training with Anderson, and that she didn’t “understand the reasons behind the moves, just the motions.”
In 2022, Anderson brought a lawsuit against Roup and her business through her parent company, Tracy Anderson Mind and Body, for breach of contract and copyright infringement, among other claims. Anderson attributed her new aggressiveness toward Roup to finding “my voice,” and the wisdom she’d gained in her 40s. Also likely helpful was the cash infusion her new husband offered the business.
But by bringing the case to court, Anderson has subjected her own workout to new scrutiny. When I set out to profile one of the most famous women in fitness, I never imagined I would have to learn so much about copyright law. Yet here we are. Copyright is designed to protect creative expression. Performance choreography is considered creative expression and has been protected by copyright law since the 1970s. Physical fitness is not. In their defense, Roup and her team relied on a copyright-infringement case brought against rival studios by Bikram Choudhury, the inventor of a series of yoga poses performed in a hot room. The court had dismissed Choudhury’s case on the rationale that the poses involved were not creative art, but “functional” movement.
A federal judge in California tossed out Anderson’s copyright claim for similar reasons. Anderson calls her program a “method,” the judge pointed out, and methods are exempt from creative-copyright protection. In addition, he wrote, Anderson says her Method is the result of research and markets it as “designed for the purpose of improving clients’ fitness and health.” Functional movements, in other words, just like Choudhury’s.
Anderson ultimately settled with Roup on the breach-of-contract count for an undisclosed amount, but she is appealing the copyright decision. Amanda Barkin, an IP attorney at FKKS in New York who has been observing the case, told me that Anderson’s accusations will be hard to prove. Roup is “allegedly incorporating these choreography and other elements from The Method that she learned through, like, the confidential employee handbook,” Barkin told me, but those moves are also “all over TikTok, so I don’t know how confidential a lot of it is.”
I wondered, when speaking with Barkin and reading the court summation, if I detected a whiff of dismissal. At the end of the day, these are just women’s workouts—things of vanity—so what’s the big deal? A male attorney, writing about the case on the FKKS blog in 2023, noted that although Anderson faced an uphill battle, at least she had the glutes for it.
In a statement, Roup’s lawyer, Nathaniel Bach, called Anderson’s lawsuit “ill-conceived and frivolous” and insisted that Roup had “developed The Sculpt Society on her own.” But the judge’s decision to toss out the copyright claim, he wrote, was “a significant victory both for Megan and the whole fitness industry, as the Court’s rulings reaffirm that no one can claim ownership over physical exercise or dance cardio.”
Whether or not some of Roup’s moves are based on Anderson’s Method, the big question is if anyone can invent and own a fitness move in the first place. Evan Breed was a professional dancer for 10 years before she became one of Anderson’s master trainers. She told me she could understand why Anderson would object to someone “copying exactly the choreography of her dance cardio.” But that doesn’t apply to the more basic movements—the arm workouts and the muscular-structure work done on the mat. Dancers like her—and like Anderson and Roup—“grew up doing those rib isolations, moving your ribs side to side, moving the hips side to side.” The arm exercises, she said, are essentially what you do while warming up for a ballet class.
Anderson isolated the movements and shifted them down to a mat. But they did not come out of nowhere. Perhaps those Anderson accuses of theft feel they’re only doing what she did herself, and continuing her practice of reinterpretation.
Why, I wondered, did Anderson keep emphasizing her workout as a research-driven method, if that was exactly what was going to hurt her copyright case? Why did she insist on having it both ways? Maybe it was that original tension—between the Broadway chorus girl and the sharp attorney—playing out all over again.
There’s nothing particularly unusual about a trainer arguing that their program is more effective than others, but Anderson’s emphasis on her own research is notable. She started out with insights, she said, but she wanted proof. And so, in 2001, she began what she frequently refers to as “the study” or her “clinical study,” gathering “five years of quantitative and qualitative data from 150 women.”
She recruited mothers who would drop their kids off at the Indiana youth center that she and Eric opened, along with other women, and provided them with choreography to shrink their problem areas. After the center shut down, she told me, she kept following up with the same women: For five years, every 10 days she would measure them in more than 28 different places and provide them with new moves. What she discovered in that process, she says, is the foundation of her Method.
Anderson insists that clients are coming to her because of this research. And it’s why she doesn’t feel bad about charging so much for it.
And yet the study is not, of course, an actual clinical study—it was not performed by independent researchers and was not submitted for peer review at an academic journal. When I followed up with Beltrani, the president, to ask if Anderson could share the data with me, he told me they were proprietary.
Even so, Anderson argues that only the close-minded would ignore her findings because she’s an outsider to the scientific establishment. What bothers her most is the idea that others are copying her moves without properly understanding the science. “To create my life’s work has taken so much research, so much focus, so many people believing in me financially. For me to be able to test, experiment, create, and do this, and for anybody, especially a woman, to come in, work for me, learn from me, leave, take me off their résumé, and steal from me?” Anderson’s voice was full of passion as she called this “morally bankrupt.”
Although Anderson wouldn’t send me any of her data, she said, when pressed, that they included records in notebooks and Polaroid shots. She also agreed to put me in touch with one of the women she’d trained in the early days of her career.
Julie McComb is a mom and teacher with a bakery business in Westfield, Indiana, and she’s remained friendly with Anderson ever since she started training with her in the mid-2000s. Back then, McComb was new to the area, and Anderson was Indiana famous.
Chatting with her dentist during an appointment one day, McComb mentioned that she liked to work out. The dentist said, “I have to tell you about this girl. She’s amazing. She’s fabulous. She’s the best in the area.” She has “this whole philosophy,” the dentist added, “and she’s done all this research.”
“I remember her lifting my shirt up,” McComb told me, and Anderson saying, “ ‘Oh, we’re going to take care of this, and we’re going to do this, and we’re going to shrink this in, and get this smaller,’ and her hands were all over my body.” McComb started to laugh, she told me, because “my problem areas were always—even when I was in high school—the sides of my hips. I said, ‘Tracy, there’s nothing we can do about this.’ ”
But Anderson made her personalized workout routines every couple of weeks, and she used a tape measure to track her progress, “and Tracy literally took me from a size eight to a size zero.”
When McComb became pregnant with her son, she did The Method all through the pregnancy. Anderson recommended her own ob-gyn. It was such an incredibly easy birth, in McComb’s telling, that she looked up at the doctor, surprised that it was over already. “He laughed,” she told me. “And he says, ‘Julie, that’s because you’ve been working out with Tracy Anderson.’ ”
McComb had known that Anderson was gathering research but wasn’t aware that the measurements she took from her were part of the “study” she’s been talking about ever since. But she didn’t seem to mind. She told me she’d had a minor stroke and some surgeries for a heart arrhythmia a few years back, and had largely stopped exercising. She’d gotten back into The Method after that, but then dropped off again. She would have liked to do online workouts, but she and her family had moved into a smaller house and there wasn’t enough space. She feels bad about gaining weight, she told me, but what she truly misses is how The Method made her feel, and “the environment and the sisterhood that we all had when we were there.”
She said, “It was more than a workout.”
For months leading up to my visit to Brentwood, Anderson had been promoting her latest product, HeartStones—a set of 2.8-pound beveled spheres beset with a circle of rose quartz that were meant to be lifted through a series of slow-burn, tai chi–like movements. They were made of iron, and they were going for $375. I could not imagine why even the most devoted of devotees would buy them. “Sis you have lost your damn mind,” read one comment on Instagram. I hoped to ask Anderson about the HeartStones during our meeting.
But first we talked about climate change, and inequality, and the reelection of Donald Trump. Anderson rarely discusses politics publicly. She knows that she serves women on both sides of the partisan divide. When she posted on Instagram about supporting Kamala Harris last fall, one angry user wrote on her website that Anderson had “abused her position,” adding that she was supposed to be “a trainer, not a guru.”
But Anderson sees politics as a wellness issue. “I cannot stand the hate. I cannot stand the division,” she told me. “That is so unhealthy for us.” Over lunch (a vegan fried-green-tomato salad) she talked about “how our nervous systems as women have been epigenetically so compromised” by living in a “system that is so corrupt and unfair.” Then we had to pause: A package from Goop had been delivered in the mail.
She went on to talk about how she had “creatively unlocked” women and enabled them to learn to “hear their bodies” and their “nervous systems” so that, when a woman’s husband asks, “What’s for dinner tonight, honey?” she can say: “Fuck you. Get your own fucking dinner.” She also expressed a wish that she could make her workouts more accessible to “people that are making a difference, like teachers, you know what I mean? Nurses, people who are underpaid and making a difference? They need it.” (She didn’t offer any specifics, however, for how she might do this.)
We talked, at last, about the HeartStones: She recommends that anyone who wants to lose weight start with the HeartStones, “because they have to hear their body.” They have to stop hating their bodies, their metabolism, “the fact that exercise might have been challenging for them.” If they hate themselves, they will “always feel miserable. They will not feel better even if they’re thinner.” It seemed like sound advice, though I still had no idea how the weights themselves were supposed to achieve these goals. I think she could tell I was skeptical.
When it was time for me to leave, Anderson packed up some gluten-free chocolate cake that her chef had made and some flowers that had been on the table and—oh, also, why not throw these in?—a set of HeartStones from her personal stash. She asked her husband to walk me to my car, and it was only on the drive home that I realized I’d just accepted a gift of significant value from the subject of a profile—something forbidden by the ethical codes of journalism. I had to return the HeartStones! But this was Los Angeles; I was already on the 405—I couldn’t just turn around. I decided that I would mail them back.
But not before I tried them. I wanted to dismiss them as silly and frivolous and overpriced. They certainly didn’t transform how I think about myself or my metabolism. But holding them had the soothing quality of a weighted blanket; the movements slowed my breathing and opened my chest and back. When friends came over, I would show them the HeartStones, tell them the price, watch them laugh, and then make them hold them. I’d show them a few movements. They’d mimic me mimicking Tracy. No one wanted to give them back. Including me: I forked over the money to keep my weights.
Like much of what Anderson is selling, the HeartStones remain a mystery to me. If they have any grounding in science, I have no idea what it is. But they feel nice, and my arms look better.
Anderson is still appealing the case against Roup, though when we spoke a few months ago, she expressed some doubts. She didn’t really care about Roup, she told me; she cared about fighting a system that tries to “narrow artists.” What if, she suggested, “I want to make a Broadway show about what I’m doing?” Then she could copyright the products of her creative genius, and no one could rip off her moves anymore.
I’m still not sure if she was kidding.
This article appears in the July 2025 print edition with the headline “The Tracy Anderson Way.”
Exercise has been recognized as an extremely effective tool to improve human health—it can have a preventative and even therapeutic effect on non-communicable diseases such as diabetes and cardiovascular diseases.
By promoting physical activity not only among athletes, but also among the general population, several non-communicable diseases can be prevented, eventually reducing the financial burden upon the health care system.
However, the exact changes that occur at a molecular level due to different types of exercise have not been explored thoroughly. One reason for this is that, traditionally, collecting molecular information (such as metabolite data) required invasive tissue or muscle biopsies, limiting the scale of studies that could be performed.
Now, in a study published in Sports Medicine—Open, Dr. Kayvan Khoramipour from Miguel de Cervantes European University, along with other co-authors, and Professor Katsuhiko Suzuki from the Faculty of Sport Sciences, Waseda University, Japan, introduce and review literature in two emerging fields that could advance our understanding of exercise physiology in humans.
These disciplines use “multi-omics” data, or data from multiple sets of biological molecules (such as proteins, metabolites, or even RNA). Prof. Suzuki and his colleagues have termed these fields as “resistomics” and “enduromics.”
The authors explain that enduromics and resistomics are fields that examine the molecular changes induced by endurance and resistance training, respectively. While endurance training is what we might refer to as aerobic exercise (that increases your breathing and heart rate), resistance training involves improving your muscle strength.
To better explain these two terms, Prof. Suzuki further elaborates that, “Enduromics and resistomics examine unique molecular adaptations to endurance and resistance training in a larger population, as opposed to the field of ‘sportomics,’ which focuses on molecular alterations in competitive athletes.”
More specifically, enduromics reveals the biological pathways involved in processes such as lipid metabolism, generation of new mitochondria, and aerobic efficiency, or your body’s ability to effectively use oxygen—all of which adapt and change in response to moderate-to-intense aerobic exercise.
On the other hand, resistomics specifically focuses on muscle hypertrophy or muscle growth, synthesis of new proteins, and neuromuscular adaptations in the body. These fields can identify the biomarkers and metabolic fingerprints, aiding in understanding how specific metabolic states differ between individuals.
Taken together, both resistomics and enduromics can give us a clear picture of the molecular adaptations that arise in different individuals in response to both resistance and endurance training.
Emphasizing the practical applications of enduromics and resistomics, Prof. Suzuki explains, “By utilizing molecular profiling, these disciplines pave the way for personalized exercise prescriptions, using molecular insights to tailor training to an individual.”
He adds that these personalized training plans can enhance fitness and rehabilitation while reducing injury risks for both athletes as well as the general population. The team also believes that by transitioning the focus from athletes to the general population, the collective health of society can be strengthened.
In the long term, Prof. Suzuki and his colleagues would like to discover molecular mechanisms underpinning adaptation to exercise, which could even prove helpful for disease prevention and treatment.
More information:
Kayvan Khoramipour et al, From Multi-omics To Personalized Training: The Rise of Enduromics and Resistomics, Sports Medicine – Open (2025). DOI: 10.1186/s40798-025-00855-4
Waseda University
Citation:
Next-generation fitness: New fields promise personalized exercise recommendations (2025, June 11)
retrieved 11 June 2025
from https://medicalxpress.com/news/2025-06-generation-fields-personalized.html
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