How Fitness Instructors Make Group Workouts Work for Every Ability

I'd give everyone in the group the same structure and let each person set their own target within it, rather than having the instructor set it. When a herniated disc took me from a wheelchair to a walking stick, what kept me moving while I rebuilt my mobility was timing myself on short walks, because it was still a measurable target I could push against. I'd run a group session the same way. Everyone gets a timed interval or a rep range, and each person chooses their own number inside it. Most people I see start with a number just above comfortable, then raise it once they've done it a few times.

I'm Runbo Li, co-founder and CEO of Magic Hour. And the honest answer is that managing a room of wildly different skill levels is the exact same problem whether you're running a fitness class or building a product for millions of users.

The principle I keep coming back to is what I call "same floor, different ceiling." Everyone in the room does the same movement pattern, but you give three intensities and let people self-select. The magic is in the framing. You never say "this is the easy version." You say "this is the foundation." Language changes everything about whether someone feels included or patronized.

I learned this firsthand not in a gym, but running AI video workshops. We'd have complete beginners sitting next to people who'd been using Stable Diffusion for a year. If I taught to the advanced crowd, beginners froze. If I taught to beginners, the experienced people checked out. So I started structuring sessions around a single creative challenge with tiered complexity. Everyone made a video. Some people used a basic template. Others stacked effects and customized prompts. The output looked different, but the energy in the room was the same because everyone was building something real.

That translates directly to fitness. A squat is a squat. One person does bodyweight to a high box. Another person holds a kettlebell and goes deep. A third person does single-leg variations. They're all squatting. They're all working. Nobody is standing on the sideline watching someone else's workout.

The single biggest adjustment that changed the dynamic? I stopped giving people permission to opt out and started giving them permission to scale. There's a massive psychological difference. "Skip this if it's too hard" tells someone they don't belong. "Find the version that makes you work" tells someone the workout is theirs to own.

Confidence isn't built by lowering the bar. It's built by letting people clear a bar they chose for themselves.

In a group session, the adjustment that helps everyone is building the class in layers before it starts. The instructor programs one base movement and two built-in options for it — an easier version and a harder one — and demonstrates all three as equals, not as the real exercise and the modifications. In the clubs I work with, that one habit changes the room. The newer or less confident member is not singled out in front of everybody; they simply choose the version that fits today, the same way the strongest member chooses theirs. Confidence in a group setting dies the moment somebody feels like the class has to slow down for them. Layered programming also gives the instructor a coaching path: walk the room, progress the people who are ready, and check form on the people still learning. Nobody feels left behind, because the class was designed from the start for different abilities to do the same workout together, at their own level.

One of the biggest mistakes in group exercise is assuming that everyone needs to do the same movement, at the same intensity, to feel like part of the group. In my experience as a physical therapist, the opposite is often true.

I approach group sessions with a common purpose but different ways to reach it. For example, during a lower-body strengthening activity, one person might perform sit-to-stands without using their hands, another might use the chair’s armrests, and someone with greater limitations might practice supported standing or seated movements. The goal is similar, but the physical demands are different.

What has made the greatest difference is presenting these variations as choices rather than levels of ability. I avoid calling one exercise the “easy version” and another the “advanced version.” Those labels may seem harmless, but they can make people self-conscious, particularly when they are already uncertain about their physical abilities.

I also build in opportunities for progression. Someone who begins with a supported movement may feel ready to reduce that support or attempt an additional repetition later in the session. Equally, someone who starts confidently may need to scale back as fatigue develops. I want participants to understand that adjusting an exercise is part of exercising well, not a sign that they are falling behind.

Another important consideration is recognizing when someone has stopped participating because they feel uncomfortable rather than physically incapable. I have seen how hesitation, fear of falling, or concern about being watched can influence movement. Sometimes a quiet cue, a change in positioning, or offering another option is enough to help someone reengage without feeling singled out.

I do not measure the success of a group session by whether everyone completes identical repetitions. I look at whether each person was appropriately challenged, moved safely, and experienced some degree of progress.

The most inclusive exercise session is not the one where everyone does the same thing. It is the one where no one has to choose between being challenged and feeling that they belong.