How To Do 1 Hand Push Ups

Okay, confession time. I've seen people do one-hand push-ups. You know the type. They’re usually wearing a string tank top and have muscles that look like they were carved from granite. They probably eat their cereal with whey protein instead of milk. And while I respect their dedication, I've always had a little secret thought about it.

My thought is this: Why?

I mean, the standard two-hand push-up is already a magnificent feat of human strength. It requires you to engage your core, your chest, your shoulders, your triceps. It’s a full-body wake-up call, especially before coffee. It’s the unofficial official test of "am I an adult who can lift my own body weight?" And for most of us, that’s enough. Plenty, even.

But then there's the one-hand push-up. It’s like the artisanal, single-origin, pour-over coffee of bodyweight exercises. It’s impressive, sure. But is it necessary? Is it practical? Does it unlock some hidden superpower that regular push-ups just can't?

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say no. And I’m prepared for the backlash. I imagine a horde of ripped individuals descending upon me, their one-hand-push-up muscles quivering with indignation. But hear me out.

The regular push-up is like a perfectly balanced symphony. All the instruments are playing their part. You have symmetry. You have stability. You have that satisfying feeling of pushing yourself up with both hands, a solid, reliable foundation.

The one-hand push-up, on the other hand, is like a jazz solo. It’s flashy. It’s daring. It’s definitely a “look at me!” move. And it requires an insane amount of balance and control. You’re basically telling gravity, "You think you've got me? Think again!"

And that’s where my humble, perhaps unpopular, opinion comes in. If you can do a one-hand push-up, that’s fantastic. Truly. You’re probably very good at balancing things. Maybe you can carry all your groceries in one trip, with the eggs in the same bag as the canned goods, and they emerge unscathed. You’re a marvel.

But for the rest of us mere mortals, the ones who are still figuring out how to fold a fitted sheet, the one-hand push-up feels a bit like trying to juggle chainsaws while riding a unicycle. It's impressive, but the stakes are just too high for a casual Tuesday afternoon workout.

Let’s talk about the journey to the one-hand push-up. I picture a person, let’s call them Brenda, who’s already crushing regular push-ups. Brenda can do twenty, thirty, maybe even fifty without breaking a sweat. She’s strong. She’s capable. And then Brenda decides, "You know what? I think I can do it with just one hand."

So Brenda starts practicing. She probably leans against a wall at first. Then maybe she tries on her knees, with one hand on a yoga block. Then she graduates to incline push-ups, still with that dominant hand doing most of the work. It’s a slow, arduous process. I imagine a lot of wobbling. A lot of near-falls. A lot of muttered expletives that are definitely not for a general audience.

Meanwhile, I'm over here, happily knocking out my sets of two-hand push-ups. I'm feeling the burn. I'm seeing results. My arms are getting stronger. My chest is getting firmer. And I haven’t once worried about my entire body collapsing sideways because my supporting hand decided to take a brief vacation.

It’s like choosing between a comfortable pair of slippers and a pair of stilts. Both have their uses, but one is definitely more practical for everyday life.

And let’s be honest, what’s the real-world application of a one-hand push-up? Unless you’re constantly having to push yourself off a slippery, icy surface with only one hand while simultaneously deflecting an incoming barrage of, I don't know, rogue tennis balls, the utility seems… limited.

I’m not saying they’re pointless. They’re a testament to incredible physical control and dedication. They’re a skill. Like playing the ukulele or speaking fluent Klingon. Impressive, certainly. But does it make your life fundamentally better in the way that being able to reach the top shelf or open a stubborn jar does?

My own personal fitness goals are a little more… grounded. I want to be able to pick up my kids without my back giving out. I want to be able to carry a reasonable amount of groceries. I want to be able to do a decent number of regular push-ups to feel like I’m not entirely made of jelly.

So, to all the one-hand push-up wizards out there, I salute you. You are the elite. You are the few. And I will continue to watch you with a mixture of awe and mild bewilderment. While I stick to my trusty two hands, my reliable foundation, my perfectly symmetrical, gravity-defying, two-handed push-ups. Because sometimes, more is more, and two hands are definitely better than one when you’re trying to push yourself up off the floor.

Perhaps one day, I’ll surprise myself. Perhaps I’ll wake up, feel a surge of unprecedented strength, and attempt a one-hand push-up. And perhaps, just perhaps, the sky will fall. Until then, I’m perfectly happy with my two-handed equilibrium.