CHICAGO — This fitness class had me sweating bullets.

Nothing quite prepared me for going from pelvic tilts to learning how to grip a pistol — and then testing my aim at a firing range — all in the course of a Friday night. 

But that’s just what I did during a first-of-its-kind, women-only “Pistols and Pilates” class in the Chicago suburb of Oak Forest, Ill.

Word of the core-building-meets-ballistics mashup has gone viral in the Pilates world since Eagle Sports Range recently started advertising its special classes.

Manager Aseel Halloub, creator of the guns-to-guns concept, said the class is aimed at empowering women.

“In the gun world, you do have a lot of women who just want to protect themselves,’’ she said.

It was also built around challenging stereotypes, according to Vivian Tadros, owner of Olive Pilates Studio and co-host of the event. 

“Pilates has been known just to be for women, but men do it now – and guns are known for being men-only, but it shouldn’t be just one gender for each,” Tadros said, hinting at how the unlikely pairing taps into two broader cultural shifts happening across the US. 

Women have become one of the fastest-growing groups of gun owners in the country, with around 20% packing heat since 2019 – up from the 16% who were strapped in between 2013-2018, according to a Gallup poll. 

Pilates – a domain long considered to include predominantly young, liberal, white women – has meanwhile exploded across demographics, with nationwide participation growing 40% since 2019 — as everyone from pro athletes to retirees and suburbanites join studios in nearly every corner of the country.

Curious about how the seemingly counter-intuitive collision of Pilates and gun training would actually play out, I joined 24 other ladies ranging in their 20s to middle-aged for the planks and plinking on Friday.

Many of the women did not neatly fit the stereotypes of individuals often associated with either community. 

Things kicked off with what I thought would be innocent enough: an hourlong mat Pilates class.

I quickly learned that it was not a cute little pregame stretch. 

It was the kind of workout class where the instructor cheerfully chirps, “Small movements!” and, “Just a few more reps!” while every muscle in your body feels personally attacked.  

We were encouraged to maintain the breathing and body control we’d just practiced while transitioning into a two-hour gun-safety course from tough-as-nails range trainer Nora Elkhatib.

“Our objective here isn’t to shoot anybody,” Elkhatib said. “It’s to protect ourselves. Us women are victims all the time.” 

About half the class raised their hands when Elkhatib asked who already held Illinois concealed-carry permits, but only a couple of the women said they owned their own firearms.

A few had never shot a gun before.

Though my outdoorsman father had taken me shooting back home in northern Idaho a handful of times growing up, I felt terrifyingly underqualified when Elkhatib soon instructed us to retrieve unloaded .22-caliber pistols from the front table. 

“Are these real?” I asked weakly, gripping the cold metal like it might detonate my hand. 

My confidence didn’t improve when Elkhatib corrected my thumb placement during a drill in which we practiced our grip, stance and aim. 

We were then marched to the nearby range, where bright pink silhouette targets awaited each of our 20 allotted rounds. 

When my turn finally came, my legs felt oddly numb as I shuffled into one of the seven booths. 

I leaned forward, frantically replaying Elkhatib’s aiming instructions in my head and pulled the trigger. 

The recoil was minimal. 

To my surprise, the shots hit the center of mass — not far from the flamingo-pink X.

The other shooters and I excitedly compared where our bullets had hit, while I asked what inspired them to attend the event in the first place. 

“It’s something different. It’s not doing the typical thing, [like] going to a bar,” said Sonia Mirnda, 40. 

“I’m like, OK, I got [a gun permit] two years ago, so I’m going to try it out,’’ the restaurant manager said.

Though Mirnda said she initially attended the event for the fitness portion, she soon realized it was “about so much more than wellness” – and left feeling “more comfortable” around firearms. 

“We’re here for the Pilates class, but honestly I think it’s also [about] self-awareness…as a woman, to protect yourself,” she said. 

Jazmyne Worthy, a 25-year-old healthcare worker, said she already carries a pistol and attended the class to “refresh” her gun knowledge and skills. 

“I live alone, so firearm safety is very important to me,” she said. 

Additionally, “I love Pilates,” she said with a laugh. “So this is the perfect mix.” 

Worthy – who saw no contradiction between the pairing and she blasted the online haters who found the event’s premise distasteful.

“I don’t think it’s extreme at all, especially because I feel that more women need to be informed and educated on firearms, how to utilize them … so that they don’t have to feel like they need to rely on someone else to feel safe,” she said.

Halloub added, “Everyone should just respect everybody else’s opinions.

“Some people are not into Pilates, and some people are not into guns – completely understand that. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.’’

As for me, I left “Pistols and Pilates” with sore glutes, decent aim and the refreshing realization that anyone can belong on a Pilates mat and at the firing range.