When you hear the phrase “Pilates and Pickleball,” it conjures up an image of another hybrid offering where Pilates once again steps in as the hero to give athletes a performance edge. But these two modalities share more than just movement. Culturally, they’re struggling with the same generational growing pain:
How do you navigate massive popularity without losing your soul in the process?
Like Pilates, pickleball started from humble beginnings. In the Bainbridge Island, Washington backyard of Bill Bell, he and his friends Joel Pritchard and Barney McCallum faced an all-too-familiar summer challenge: bored children. Desperate for a solution and unable to find that elusive badminton shuttlecock, the parents searched their surroundings for what was available to them. Using a net, some paddles, a wiffle ball, and the most creative rules, the game of pickleball was born.
Reminiscent of the origin story of Joseph Pilates, who famously built his first basic resistance tools out of hospital bed springs and beer keg rings, both worlds were born from a primal human curiosity for movement, using whatever was within arm’s reach.
Like any niche movement, early acolytes of both Pilates and pickleball formed devoted communities with small, almost cult-like followings. Pickleball tournaments not only had talented players in their midst, but a crop of spectators who attended for the social scene. Those of us in the Pilates world are familiar with the early days of the New York studio – a hub for fixing the knees and spines of Broadway stars. However, this era of pickleball history reminds me particularly of the days when Pilates teachers were flocking to the Body Mind Spirit conferences. Back then, no one understood why we were going to do Pilates for 3 – 5 days in a hotel ballroom, but we knew where the magic was, and that was all that mattered. (By the way – if you were an attendee of a BMS conference, it’s probably time to get a bone density scan… just saying.)
As with the rise of any trending pastime, there were the noted pioneers. While not referred to as “the elders” like in the Pilates community, pickleball had the first tournament organizers, coaches, and champions. Similar to Joe and his “first generation teachers,” the “firsts” of pickleball were truly invested in a “pickleball for all” mentality. Their mission was to share the sport far and wide; with children in schools, park programs, senior citizens and anyone who could play, which is part of how the sport gained its popularity.
However, 2020 changed the narrative for both modalities forever. During lockdown, Pilates became easy to access at home via matwork and zoom classes. With the rise of online training came the boom of the influencer, undoubtedly exposing Pilates to a larger audience and fueling the later demand for equipment-based studios for the masses. Similarly, pickleball became a much-sought-after sport based on its design, deeming it a safe way to exercise and enjoy social activity while maintaining distance. The rise in popularity of the sport introduced the pickleball influencer to the scene along with massive exposure, sponsorships, tournaments, and a boom of indoor facilities. In both cases, industry knocked on the doors and they swung WIDE open for business.
The industry boom brought with it a great divide between generations. For the historians, purists, and life-long career professionals, there has been a desire to preserve history, maintain standards and continue to promote accessibility. If we’re honest, there’s also a plea for the essence of the method and the sport not to be lost in an internet tsunami of GRWM videos and AI slop by those who have dedicated their life to the field.
On the other hand, there is an undeniable energy of public interest and career opportunity in a burgeoning hybrid market that is reaching audiences that have never been connected with before. The public is demanding more and professional opportunities are abundant. In this world of digital visibility, however, it’s hard to be successful without playing the game of consistent content creation, sponsorships/brand deals, and self-promotion.
It begs a head-tilting question for anyone who loves these industries:
Have we put the soul of the work on a shelf in an effort to keep up with the demands of the market?
I believe the answer to that question is a resounding “Yes, but it’s time to take her down, dust her off and PLAY!”
To get the movement back into its main character energy, we need to look back at what started these movements in the first place: Raw, unadulterated, discovery.
When Joe Pilates first tugged on a rusty bed spring and realized he could use the coil’s resistance to change how a body moves, he wasn’t picturing world domination through Pilates. He was having a pure human “a-ha!” moment. When those desperate parents on Bainbridge Island “macgyvered” a game to save their kids from summer boredom, they weren’t thinking: “This will revolutionize retirement communities forever!” They were nodding their heads at each other with crinkled chins as if to say, “We might be the coolest parents on the island right now.”
Neither was chasing an empire. They were discovering what their bodies and their surroundings could do when curiosity met the right circumstances.
The industry boom wants us to believe that these movements are becoming more widely enjoyed through the numbers game alone. But the spreadsheet doesn’t know what it feels like to breathe into a part of your rib cage that’s been long forgotten. The profit and loss statement doesn’t understand the sound of a paddle connecting with the ball in a perfect backhand volley. The momentary metrics that we see rise and undoubtedly fall again from a successful social media campaign are nothing in comparison to sitting with a client as they move their body after navigating through loss, illness, or surgery. That cute twin set can’t ever replace the sense of belonging that happens the first time you’re invited into a foursome and encouraged in your pickleball play – even when you’re not completely certain of the rules yet.
The experience I’ve had launching a Pilates studio within The Pickleball Clubhouse in Chicago has proven my “thesis” to not only be true, but necessary in building a clientele. The players I work with have a limited interest in Pilates as a method or culture. They have their own thing going on that they love. Instead, they are curious about how the discovery can serve their interests.
“What if my shoulder could feel better when I reach to return a lob?”
“What if my knees and hips didn’t feel so stiff after 3 hours of play?”
“What if 3 hours of play could turn into 4 without worry that I’d be out for the rest of the week?”
And often:
“What if breathing didn’t feel like bending a spoon with my mind?”
Each session becomes a treasure hunt that I teach similarly to how I experienced working with master teacher Ron Fletcher. We weren’t always sure of the destination at the beginning of class, but through awareness, conversation, intention and listening, somehow we always came out on the other side with a full-body overhaul. This is Pilates.
As I write this post I can hear the squeals and screams from the courts below my space. Someone has just scored after a seemingly never-ending rally. Joy is present. Sweat is abundant. No one is filming and they’re back at it before I can even finish typing this sentence. This group has never played together before, but they’re discovering their dynamic together in real time. This is pickleball.
When the commercial tide inevitably turns, it won’t be the numbers game or the digital metrics that hold us together. It will be these messy, beautiful spaces of integrated curiosity. Because when we honor the wisdom of those who went before us and embrace the raw, unfiltered energy of those newly falling in love with the work, we close the generational divide. We prove that movement is our universal language – one that doesn’t require a high price of admission, just a handful of stuff in the yard, a clear space to play, and the curiosity to see what our bodies can do.
Jenna Zaffino (Coach JZ), NBC-HWC, is a seasoned movement specialist, corporate keynote speaker, and Pilates educator. Known for bridging the gap between biomechanics, behavioral health, and stress resilience, Jenna specializes in helping individuals and audiences build a scaffold to support their internal stability. She currently pioneers integrated movement culture in Chicago, where she operates her Pilates studio inside The Pickleball Clubhouse, helping athletes and individuals discover what their bodies can do when curiosity meets the right circumstances.
