How I Started Simple Low Impact Dance Workouts At Home (And How You Can, Too)

Alright, so—real talk—the first time I ever tried to dance alone in my apartment, I felt like... so silly? My cat literally gave me a look, like, “What is wrong with you?” I guess it was during lockdown or whatever, gyms were closed, and honestly, my knees hated squats. And like, I dunno, walking was kind of...meh. Running? Hah. Not in this life.

Anyway, there I was, just scrolling YouTube one rainy, blah Thursday, and I accidentally clicked on a weirdly cheerful low impact dance workout. Bunch of people just sidestepping and smiling and, I dunno, having zero shame. I thought, “There’s no way this counts as exercise, right?” But whatever, I pressed play and, TMI, it actually kind of made me feel good? I mean, it was just ten minutes, but for real, it became a little thing I’d do—even though I was definitely not about to, I dunno, compete on TikTok or anything. Still, I didn’t just give up after, like, three days, which is new for me.

So if you feel like giving it a shot but also feel a little “what am I even doing,” uh, yeah, same. This is for you. I’ll tell you what worked for me, what was kind of a flop, and all the awkward stuff in between.

Let’s Talk About Low Impact Dance: What Even Is It?

I didn't expect this to work… but it actually did.

Hm, okay, so before I start gushing, let’s just make sure we’re all talking about the same thing. “Low impact” kinda just means none of the crazy jumpy stuff. My joints have retired from burpees, thank you very much. No leaping, no wild lunges where you land funny. Just...easy steps, mostly.

I think the reason I even tried this was because of, like, an old “sports injury”—not even a cool story, literally rolled my knee in volleyball warmups in high school. Anyway, high-intensity stuff never really felt great again. I honestly thought I was cursed to boring walks or whatever—but, yeah, low impact dance kind of saved me? It wakes you up, gets your heart going, and it doesn’t murder your joints.

Sometimes I joke, “the only thing high impact about my dancing is how LOUD my playlist is.” No lie.

But, like, don’t picture some glamorous jazz class—it’s mostly just basic steps, a couple arm moves, all put together for, you know, actual humans. And my knees, I swear, are less mad at me now.

How I Got Started (And Didn’t Immediately Quit)

Not pretending I’m super disciplined here—my closet is practically a graveyard for old yoga mats and, like, abandoned resistance bands. I always start things but, um, sticking with it is not my natural talent.

What sort of worked was...honestly kind of dumb-simple:

Find a video that looked normal. Like, if anyone was doing splits, I noped out instantly.
Make a tiny space—I just shoved my coffee table away and, sorry, my plant may or may not still have a mark.
Wear whatever I was already in. Pajamas? Yep. Socks? Yep. Sometimes maybe even slippers, which, now that I think about it—was probably not the best idea. I’ll talk about that in a sec.
Tell myself it was fine to quit if I got bored. Weirdly, that actually made me finish most of the time?

Kind of feels backwards, but if you know you can bail at any time, it’s suddenly less pressure.

Oh, and HUGE thing for me—I made my own playlist. Sometimes I muted the video and put on whatever popped into my head (sorry to the instructor, but her “Rise & Shine!” mix was not my jam).

My Honest-at-Home Dance Workout Formula (If You Can Call It That)

This is probably the most un-fancy “routine” ever, but it kind of worked.

Warm up: Low-key. I just, I dunno, sort of walk in place and swing my arms around for a bit. If you’re feeling extra tired, maybe a yawn counts too? Not scientific but, hey, no injuries.
Short video (10–20 mins) or just music. I basically only know, like, maybe three real dance moves, so I lean on “step-tap” a lot. Sometimes a grapevine if I’m feeling bold. If you can walk, you can totally do this stuff.
Really simple steps: For real, I do side steps, some awkward knee lifts, weird heel taps—and yeah, jazz hands sometimes. Don’t judge.
Repeat a ton. Like, body-brain lag is a thing—first few tries I tripped over my own feet, but now I can do a step-touch to the microwave beep.
Always stretch at the end. I literally just reach for my toes for, like, 15 seconds. I used to skip it, but eh—regret.

Occasionally I pretend I’m in a cheesy ‘90s music video or something. Nobody’s watching (except possibly my neighbor, but whatever). My dog got a little too hyped once and now I try to do it when she’s distracted with a chew toy. Honestly—it’s impossible to fail unless, maybe, you live in a glass house.

Random Tips I Wish I’d Known (Learn From My Awkwardness)

It honestly doesn’t matter how bad you are. I swear, I didn’t know what my arms were even doing at first and I still got “results” (in the sense of... I moved, yay?).
Shoes are optional, but socks = danger?? I nearly faceplanted doing a fake jazz step. Barefoot, honestly, is less risky on smooth floors. If you wanna wear shoes, do it, but, like, don’t try to be cool and wear socks if your floors are slippery. Just...don’t.
You don’t need a ballroom. My entire apartment is, like, the size of a postage stamp. I’ve never needed more than a few feet of space. As long as you’re not kicking a lamp, you’ll be fine.
Repetition is your friend. I got totally obsessed with one video—I played it so many times I started anticipating the instructor’s jokes. Not proud, but, you know, it worked.
Forgot a move? Freestyle! There is literally no dance judge in your house. Just, like, keep moving. Sometimes I just do a half-hearted robot until I figure it out. Zero shame.
Short and happy > long and miserable. I’d rather do ten minutes having fun than 30 minutes and hate it. You do you, honestly.
Music hack: do what lifts your mood. Mute the video soundtrack, blast Mario Kart music if you want, no rules. Stevie Wonder and the Spice Girls have both saved my mood. It’s about *fun* not... whatever the instructor’s into.
No gear needed, really. At all. No pads, weights, mats, or fancy sneakers necessary. I even ditched the yoga mat after my dog decided it was a bed. You can add stuff later if you want, but like, you totally don’t have to.

Mistakes I Made (Aka: “Don’t Be Me” List)

Tried to go too hard, too soon. Those happy video trainers made 20 minutes look easy. I was sore for, like, a week. Start small or you’ll regret it.
Skipped warming up/cooling down. Look, I thought low impact = no big deal. Nope! Next day my body was like, “Nice try.” Just spend a minute warming up, trust.
Obsessed way too much about “doing it right.” Honestly? If you’re moving, you’re winning. Matching the instructor move for move is optional.
Ignored signals from my body. Ankle felt weird? Should’ve stopped. Did I stop? Of course not. Don’t be like me; modify and rest if you need.
Got stuck on calories and numbers. There was a minute I’d check my stupid watch after every workout. It literally killed the vibe. Now I just focus on “did I feel less blah?”—way healthier.
Was mean to myself on lazy days. Ugh. But actually being nicer (and expecting ups and downs) is how I stuck with it. Some days I just do a lazy two-step and call it a win.

FAQ: Quick Answers to Stuff I Wondered (and Googled)

Do I need special shoes or gear to start?

Nah, not really. Unless your floor is, like, dangerously slippery or you need arch support or whatever, just go barefoot. I’ve tried everything and honestly, no one cares if you dance in PJs. Feel free to add a mat or light weights only if you get, like, super into it.

Is low impact dance actually good exercise?

Shockingly, yes. I mean, my face gets red, my watch says my heart rate goes up, and I sweat a bit. Plus I feel way less “blah” after. And you’re less likely to mess up your knees/hips/whatever compared to running. You can always add arm stuff if you wanna make it harder—but you don’t have to.

What if I have zero dance experience?

Same. My signature move is, um, kind of like the “avoid the spilled drink at a wedding” shuffle. No one is watching you. If you screw up, congrats, you’re normal. You’ll pick stuff up eventually.

Can I get results with just 10 minutes a day?

Yeah, actually—you do notice a mood boost. Maybe I’m imagining it, but my body feels less, like, creaky, too. For me, doing it most days was way better than waiting for motivation to do some marathon session.

What if my space is super small?

This is my literal reality. Tiny apartment? No big deal. Just shove stuff aside so you don’t, I dunno, step on a houseplant. If I can do it between the couch and the radiator, so can you.

Final Thoughts: You Don’t Need to Be a “Dancer”

If I could give brand-new me a pep talk, it’d be something like: “You’re not being graded. Just move.” I mean, honestly, the best part is you can be silly and no one will know (unless you post it, but, like, that’s your call).

Dancing around your kitchen—or wherever—is goofy but, I don’t know, kind of freeing? Some days, yeah, I want to flop on the couch after and never move again. But other days, it’s actually fun, even when I mess up every step. I’ve actually stuck with this way longer than anything else ever, maybe because it never felt like some torturous chore.

I am definitely not ready for any internet dance fame. But, honestly, feeling good in your own skin—even when you’re messing up the easiest moves—is kind of the whole point. So just… put something on, hit play, and do your thing. Zero rules. Zero fancy gear. Just you and whatever space you’ve claimed.

Cheers to looking a little goofy, dancing to your fridge’s hum, and not caring who’s watching. (Spoiler: usually, no one.)

You honestly got this. And if you don’t today? There’s always tomorrow’s 7pm kitchen dance break. See you there—probably in my socks. 🕺🩰

how to start simple low impact dance workouts at home for beginners with no equipment