This past week on vacation, I was working out in my mother-in-law's community gym in Florida. Judging by the room, the average age of the wonderfully fit people still showing up to take care of their bodies was probably 75.
My usual workout spot is a corner of our finished basement, so getting to use a gym full of different equipment always feels like a treat. As I settled into a set of rope pulldowns, I heard it: a loud grunt, followed by an exasperated sigh coming from the machine behind me.
I turned around to see my 15-year-old son giving every ounce of effort he had, trying to curl the weight on the leg curl machine.
Without even thinking, I rushed over.
“What are you doing? You’re going to hurt yourself!”
Almost immediately, the female trainer working beside an older gentleman chimed in:
“Oh yes…when I was younger, I tore my patellar tendon. Trust me, you don’t want to injure that. It’ll bother you for the rest of your life.”
In that moment, two well-meaning women had unintentionally swooped in to tell a teenage boy he was doing it wrong.
The look on his face told me everything. Once that awkward moment had moved on, we talked about it. Later, somewhere in the conversation, he casually said: “Well…if you can walk the next day, you didn’t really do leg day.”
I asked where he’d learned that.
“My friends.”
While we used to work out together regularly, I’ve officially been replaced by his friends. As I should be.
What I realized, though, is that I wasn’t really questioning whether he should be learning from others. I was questioning who those others were and what messages they were passing along.
Along with his friends, he’s undoubtedly getting advice in the locker room, from ESPN highlights, professional athletes, YouTube videos, and strength influencers. Some of it is excellent. Some of it…not so much.
Whether we like it or not, our kids eventually begin learning what it means to be strong from somewhere else.
That moment in the gym got me thinking not just about my own son, but about the culture many young boys are stepping into.
For years, many of us heard that children shouldn’t lift weights until they were fully grown because it would damage their growth plates or stunt their growth.
That advice has changed.
The American Academy of Pediatrics now states that appropriately designed resistance training is both safe and beneficial for children and adolescents when it is supervised, technique-focused, and progressed appropriately. Research has shown improvements in strength, athletic performance, bone health, injury prevention, and confidence. Just as importantly, there is no evidence that properly supervised resistance training stunts growth.
But there's an important nuance that sometimes gets lost in the conversation.
The goal isn’t simply to lift heavier and heavier weights.
The Academy emphasizes learning movement patterns first, developing proper technique, progressing gradually, and matching training to a young person’s physical and emotional maturity, not simply their age.
For beginners, that often means lighter loads, controlled movements, and stopping short of complete muscular failure while technique is still developing.
That wasn’t exactly the message my son was hearing.
And honestly, I don’t think it’s unique to him.
Curious whether my instinct was right, I reached out to three experts whose careers have been dedicated to helping athletes and everyday people train, perform, and stay healthy: Brett Bartholomew MS.Ed., CSCS*D, RSCC*D, Chris Mohr, PhD, RD and Jim White, RDN, ACSM-EP, CPT.
Although each approached the question from a slightly different angle, they all came back to the same message:
Strength training isn’t the problem. Rushing the process is.
Brett Bartholomew, founder of Art of Coaching™, said it best:
“Kids don’t get hurt because they’re lifting weights. They get hurt because they’re progressing faster than their tissues and technique can handle.”
He also challenged something many of us celebrate without thinking.
“Parents celebrate visible progress, more weight on the bar, bigger muscles, but they rarely celebrate what matters more: better movement quality, patience, consistency, and sound decision-making.”
His advice was refreshingly simple:
Play the long game.
Chris Mohr, who has spent decades in sports nutrition and exercise physiology, echoed that same idea while offering reassurance that many parents still need to hear.
“Weight training is not only perfectly safe, but strongly encouraged. It’s significantly better than doing nothing. Of course, there should be quality instruction and guidance on form and what’s appropriate.”
He also reminded me that the strongest foundation isn’t always the flashiest one.
“Bodyweight movements like push-ups, pull-ups, and squats often provide an excellent place for young athletes to learn movement before chasing heavier loads. After all, our own body is a form of resistance.”
Jim White, who coaches athletes and everyday exercisers alike, sees many of the same mistakes repeated.
“Most injuries aren’t because teenagers are lifting weights. They’re because they’re trying to outdo one another.”
He encouraged parents to pay attention to the things that often get overlooked:
learning proper technique before adding weight
slowing down each repetition instead of rushing through sets
using a spotter when appropriate
eating before training instead of relying on pre-workout supplements
remembering to breathe rather than holding their breath through heavy lifts
Despite different backgrounds, all three experts emphasized the same themes: patience, quality movement, consistency, and playing the long game.
Reading their responses left me thinking about a few things I can get curious about as a parent, too.
