Understanding the Characteristics of a Trauma Informed Practice Training Program for Exercise Professionals: A Qualitative Study
This qualitative study explores the design needs of exercise professionals for a tailored Trauma Informed Practice training program, identifying key themes such as experiential learning, trauma education, practical application, and ongoing evaluation to guide the development of an effective prototype.
Original paper licensed under CC BY 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/). This is an AI-generated explanation of the paper below. It is not written or endorsed by the authors. For technical accuracy, refer to the original paper. Read full disclaimer
For millions of people, the simple act of moving their body can feel like a minefield. Trauma, whether from violence, abuse, or sudden loss, leaves deep marks not just on the mind but on the physical self. It can alter how a person breathes, how they react to touch, and how they perceive safety in a room. Because of this, many individuals who have suffered these experiences avoid physical activity, even though movement is often a powerful tool for healing. Exercise professionals, such as physiotherapists and personal trainers, are the guides who help people navigate this terrain. Their job is to prescribe movement, but if they do not understand how past trauma affects the body, their well-meaning instructions can accidentally trigger fear or pain, causing the person to withdraw. The goal is to create an environment where movement feels safe and empowering, a concept known as trauma-informed practice. This approach does not try to treat the trauma itself but focuses on building trust, offering choice, and ensuring the person feels in control of their own body.
Despite the clear need for this kind of care, most exercise professionals have not received specific training on how to apply these principles in a gym or clinic. Existing training programs often come from mental health or social work fields and may not address the unique physical realities of exercise, such as the necessity of physical touch or the intensity of bodily sensations. To bridge this gap, researchers at The University of Queensland and Monash University set out to listen directly to the experts who work on the front lines. They wanted to know what a training program should look like if it were designed specifically for exercise professionals. They invited fifteen experienced practitioners, including exercise physiologists and physiotherapists, and conducted interviews with thirteen who completed the process to understand what they needed to learn and how they wanted to learn it. The researchers were not testing a new method but were gathering the raw material needed to build one.
The study revealed that the way training is delivered matters just as much as the information it contains. The participants strongly rejected the idea of sitting passively in a lecture hall or clicking through an online module. Instead, they described a need for learning that feels like the work itself: active, collaborative, and reflective. They suggested that training should involve role-playing real scenarios, such as guiding a client through a squat or measuring a waistline, so professionals can practice how to speak and move in a way that feels safe. One participant noted that the best training happens when people discuss and solve problems together rather than just listening to an instructor. Crucially, the researchers found that the training program itself must model the very principles it teaches. If a course claims to teach safety and choice, it must offer those things to the students. This means giving participants a say in their learning, acknowledging that some of them may have their own histories of trauma, and creating a space where they feel respected and heard.
Beyond the method of delivery, the content of the training must be deeply rooted in the physical experience of trauma. The participants emphasized that exercise professionals need to understand how trauma changes the body's physiology, such as increasing muscle tension or altering sleep patterns, and how these changes affect a person's ability to exercise. They stressed the importance of recognizing signs that a client is struggling, even if that person never speaks about their past. The training must teach professionals how to read the room, notice when someone is avoiding eye contact, and adjust their approach without prying. It must also cover the practical details of consent, teaching that asking for permission is not a one-time form to sign but an ongoing conversation that happens throughout every session. This includes being mindful of cultural differences and understanding how to build trust with people from diverse backgrounds, perhaps by involving family members or community leaders in the care process.
Finally, the study highlighted that learning cannot end when the course finishes. The participants expressed a strong desire for long-term support to ensure they do not slip back into old habits. They suggested that training should include follow-up checks months or even a year later to see how the new skills are being used in real clinics. This ongoing connection would allow professionals to reflect on their practice, share challenges, and receive guidance on how to handle difficult situations, such as when a client discloses a current safety threat. The researchers concluded that a successful training program for exercise professionals must be a journey of continuous learning, grounded in real-world practice and sustained by a community of support. By listening to the needs of these professionals, the study provides a clear blueprint for creating a training system that can help more people find safety and strength in movement.
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