Can Jennifer Aniston’s workout get my body into the same shape as hers? 

Am I as fit, strong, or toned as Jennifer Aniston? No, no, and, ha ha! no. 

Yet for some unfathomable reason, I imagined that her favourite fitness method — Pvolve, a gadet promising low-impact, resistance-based functional training specifically suited to women — wouldn’t be too challenging for me.

So I’m humbled when, despite boosting myself with coffee and sugar, it takes me three attempts over two days to complete my initial online class. Thank goodness for the pause button.

At first glance, Pvolve looks like a game of Twister — but high-tech and complicated. You work out on a ‘precision’ mat divided into squares to guide your positioning.

I get the package called The Signature Bundle, shipped from the U.S. for around £217, including tax and customs charges (although you can buy some Pvolve equipment from UK vendors online, it’s no cheaper).

I have the mat, a tough resistance tube — rather like a turbo-charged elastic band — attached to fingerless gloves called a P.band, and a P.ball — a melon-sized rubber ball with a band of heavy material around it.

You use the band to strap the ball between your thighs or ankles, and either squeeze the ball or stretch the band to target the inner thighs, glutes and core.

I doubt that even Aniston could feel glamorous using this appendage.

But I’m in no doubt that if I persevere with the P.ball I’ll be able to crack walnuts in all sorts of places. I use it in a lower body strength class, stepping wide to create resistance with the band between my ankles — and my glutes are in agony.

Pvolve’s USP is that it combines functional fitness — exercise that mimics everyday movement, such as twisting, reaching, getting off the floor — with ‘unique’ resistance equipment to help you strengthen and tone. You can also use free weights. And, crucially for slightly creaky 54-year olds such as Aniston and myself (OK, just me), it’s low impact.

Pvolve was conceived by Rachel Katzman, a New York-based entrepreneur, who realised killer high-intensity workouts didn’t suit her. She was desperate to find a form of exercise kinder on her body (she has scoliosis, an abnormal curvature of the spine, as do I.)

After she came across functional fitness, she created her own version, with the help of expert instructors and a clinical advisory board that includes medical doctors and experts in women’s health, biomechanics and physical therapy.

Aniston, now an ambassador for Pvolve, first discovered it in 2021 while recovering from a back injury. The actress had a friend who was a member, and noticed how her energy and physique had gone though a ‘complete transformation’.

Aniston ordered the equipment, started streaming workouts at home, and ‘fell in love with the programme. It makes you work hard and delivers results’, she says.

She has since told People magazine: ‘If I had known about this 20 years ago when I was breaking my body… I would have saved so much pain.’

Jen, say no more.

Minutes after my Pvolve equipment arrives, I click on what I imagine will be an easy class. The website, to which you get one month’s free access with The Signature Bundle, and then costs £14.99 a month, includes an on-demand library of classes, and live ‘studio’ workouts.

The first class is a 31-minute equipment-free workout, focusing on strengthening the upper body, core, hips and glutes.

My trainer is Maeve McEwen, director of programming, who is a pre and postnatal, integrative nutrition health coach.

Ten minutes in, even Maeve is puffing a little.

In quick succession we’ve done moving planks (going from a downward dog position to a plank and back again), push-ups, leg raises (lying on our back, legs up vertically with knees bent at 45 degrees, stretching alternate legs out horizontally) and single glute bridges (lying on our backs, knees bent, feet flat on the floor, raising and lowering our bottoms by pushing through one leg at a time).

There are more exhausting moves before we progress to seated lunges (kneeling back on the mat, bottom resting on heels, then stepping up, so we’re kneeling on one knee).

At 23 minutes, I pause Maeve (high blonde ponytail, chewy American accent, impossibly sunny) as I experience a brutal reality check.

I stagger to the sofa where I lie flat, breathing heavily, chiding myself. Would I have expected a Chris Pratt or Tom Cruise fitness routine to be basic?

Why did I assume Aniston’s preferred workout would be anything less than hellishly tough to complete?

I love the seated lunges (‘We’re training ourselves to get up off the floor without having to use our hands,’ explains Maeve.) But I’m not up to performing leg raises with a ‘neutral pelvis’, even with one hand pushing against my thigh to engage my abs. 

My core is as weak as American tea, and my aching lower back tells me I should have modified the moves. It’s entirely my fault.

I search the site and find a Lower Body and Lower Back Strength class, part of their ‘foundations collection, created to help you master the Method fundamentals and perfect your form’. I belatedly realise that there’s a wealth of instruction for beginners.

There are constant side-to side, front-to-back and rotational moves. In this respect Pvolve reminds me a little of 1980s Jane Fonda aerobics — lots of turning and reaching. 

There’s targeted focus on form and strengthening core muscle groups. But it’s also purposefully fluid, fast-paced and, boy, do you sweat! I’m getting solid cardio workouts.

You might still want to continue spin classes if a near-death cardio experience is what you’re after but, in middle age, cycling as if I were trying to escape an erupting volcano suits neither my hips or my heart.

Sensibly, some of the classes are fairly short. It’s easier to squeeze in an 18-minute arm and glute sculpt with the P.band, before bed — something I feel in my triceps and bottom the following day.

One thing I particularly like about Pvolve is that it has a lot of content tailored to particular womens’ needs.

Perusing the website, I find an interview with Dr Amy Hoover, Pvolve’s chief physical therapist, who specialises in a pre and postnatal care, on the science of a strong pelvic floor, and a link to the brand’s programme on pelvic floor strengthening. Having had three children, I feel seen. It’s impressive.

But, overall, is Pvolve really worth it?

I’ve spent more than £200 on the kit. At a pinch, you could manage the exercises with a normal resistance band, mat and Pilates ball, and just pay the £14.99 monthly streaming fee. 

And there are plenty of equipment-free classes. That said, having the appropriate kit does make me feel I’m getting the most out of what Pvolve offers.

You could also try the Total Transformation Bundle, which contains 12 pieces of equipment (including ankle weights and something called a Slant Board). With a year of streaming, it costs about £650 with tax and duty.

But for me, the Signature Bundle is enough. And once you’ve got it, £14.99 a month is pretty good value. 

There are (to date) an exhausting 708 classes in the on-demand library, including nine wellness programmes tailored specifically for women, such as the Managing With Endometriosis Workout, Movement During Fertility Treatment and a series of postnatal regimes.

A week in, after eight enjoyable, puff-making, limb-stretching, and yes, at times, torturous, classes, I realise I’m hooked. I even book one of the live classes — there are about 20 a week.

I choose Sculpt & Burn In 30, with Renee Settle, an LA-based women’s fitness specialist who got into Pvolve after suffering a number of dance injuries. It’s at 10am U.S. time, but I’m informed when I book that it’s 3pm UK time, so there’s no confusion. 

As it’s still primarily a U.S. brand, the earliest live class you can do in the UK is 11.30am, though truly, with all the on-demand options, it’s hardly a problem.

There are 12 of us on Zoom, including one other Brit. Everyone waves hello, and most people have their camera on. I turn mine off halfway — not because I’m cheating some of the moves, but because family members keep meandering into view. 

While the sound quality isn’t as clear as the recorded classes, it’s fun and doable. Renee is enthusiastic and encouraging. It’s a great option, mainly because I can’t pause the workout. There is no escape.

I also download the Pvolve app to my phone, so if I want to do a class away from home, I don’t need my laptop. I use it to book a free one-off 15-minute Zoom consultation with a Pvolve expert to review my form and help me achieve some fitness goals. 

When I explain to trainer Julie Ann Earls about my weak back, she points me to their six-part back strengthening series, co-created by Dr Hoover.

‘This is a really special series,’ says Julie, ‘in that it’s been through some clinical studies where it’s been proven to treat lower back pain.’ 

Indeed, preliminary results in a University of Minnesota study of adults with chronic lower back pain, showed that using the Pvolve back strengthening regimes for 12 weeks ‘significantly reduced pain, improved body awareness and strength, and reduced fearful avoidance of movement’.

Julie even gets onto a mat to demonstrate how to modify leg raises to protect my back. She emails after the consultation, saying she’ll check in two weeks to see how I’m doing. (And not just because I’m writing about it — she wasn’t aware I was a journalist until I told her.)

I get why Aniston loves Pvolve. It’s grounded in a scientific understanding of women’s health and physiology. 

It’s as challenging as you want to make it and, once I’d perfected my technique, I genuinely felt I had improved my strength, physique and cardiovascular health.

That’s certainly worth a little indignity with the P.ball.

• The Signature Bundle is £217, including shipping and tax, from pvolve.com.