Cassie Kralovec, a 40-year-old nurse and mom of three in Takoma Park, Maryland, has been wearing a weighted vest casually for the past 18 months—ever since she listened to a longevity podcaster talk about his habit of working out in one. Intrigued, she ordered a $40 vest off Amazon, and uses it a few times a week on family walks. “I love that it takes an otherwise easy exercise like walking up a notch,” she says.

She’s not alone. Rucking was once the domain of camo and medieval-looking plate carriers for the bearded macho set. Now, the practice of carrying weight on one’s upper body while walking or jogging is enjoying a new army of fans led by suburban moms. “Our waitlist is 5,000 strong,” says Cortney Bigelow, co-founder of The Carry, a Seattle-based vest brand aimed at busy women. The brand has already opened up pre-orders, which will ship when the vest officially launches in January; within five minutes of the pre-sale going live, it sold a hundred of the $299 vests. 

With origins in military training, weighted vests have been worn in civilian circles for around a decade, according to David Looney, an exercise physiologist who researches them for the U.S. Army—but marketing has mostly been geared toward men. Black SWAT-style vests have become the uniform of intensely fit guys; rucking has typically leaned heavily on mud, grit, and “embrace the suck” culture. Until now.

Women have discovered these backpacks as a low-impact, strength-preserving, cardio-boosting option—especially appealing during perimenopause and in the GLP-1 weight-loss era. Social media, expert endorsements, and women-specific gear have stripped away the boot-camp vibe. Peloton has begun offering women-led, weighted-vest classes, with programs on its app and via its treadmill. Life Time gym is partnering with Aion vests in “mind-body training programs” at some 70 locations across the country.

These garments are a niche, but growing, product category. Menopause experts are selling vests on Amazon for $50. Omorpho designed a luxury one with a corset-like fit that comes in a rainbow of colors—they’re dominating the luxury market segment, for $289 a pop. “When we first started researching, everything was black, bulky, and military,” says Stefan Olander, Omorpho’s founder and a former Nike vice president. Macho legacy brands like Goruck are now scrambling to reach women—the company co-founded by a Special Forces veteran recently tested women’s prototypes at a Costa Rican “ruck and flow” retreat.

Courtesy of Omorpho

YVO's Marie Berry, a Miami-based former marketing executive at sports and luxury brands, worked with designers and physiologists who could rethink how weight should sit on a woman’s body. The key, she says, is keeping pressure off the chest. “Instead of some heavy plates pressing down, smaller weights spread along the sides and lower torso move more naturally,” she says. “Wide padded straps and a contoured fit reduce strain on collarbones. An adjustable upper buckle lets women shift up/down.”

YVO might appeal to consumers such as Kralovec in Takoma Park, who says when she wears her Zelus for more than an hour, “it strains my shoulders.” Fit is important: Kralovec finds that her vest moves around too much whenever she tries to run in it. Olander thinks this is Omorpho’s selling point: The G Vest fits snugly, even while performing higher impact exercises, weighing three to 10 pounds total. “When we launched, people balked at the price,” he says. “Now, no one [mentions it].” He says it’s “the most comfortable, best-looking option out there.”

YVO’s vests come with eight 2.5-pound weights —it enables women to determine their level of strain based on how they might be feeling on any given day. The Carry’s prototype uses a modular system, too. Marketed as “FlexCore,” it arrives with 20 pounds worth of half-pound weights; they can be placed on the front and back, giving women the option to customize the load as they get stronger. They are toying with the idea of a 30-pound model next. Omorpho’s designs are not customizable. Instead of chunky plates, it uses hundreds of tiny steel ball bearings evenly distributed throughout a neoprene core. Next month, the company will launch a 2.0 iteration.

Courtesy of The Carry

Weighted vests have caught on among women for lots of reasons. They’re an easy way to amp up cardio and calorie burn—many women are using them while doing housework or walking their kids to school. Looney’s research shows wearing one equal to 10% of your body weight burns about 8.5% more calories. Still, some exercise scientists warn that adding weight to joints and performing repetitive activities increases risk of injury—and that those with poor joint health, metabolic disease, or osteoarthritis should proceed with caution.

Sedgwick and Bigelow of The Carry discovered rucking while navigating perimenopause and postpartum recovery. Berry, of YVO, came to the fitness practice to try and alleviate early stage bone loss. “I had always associated osteoporosis with my grandmother,” she says, having gotten into rucking following a health scare. “Suddenly bone health became very personal.”

Every $299 YVO pre-order comes with a free, retrievable DEXA scan by BodySpec, giving women a baseline for bone health before they start. The brand is slated to launch in December, alongside an app allowing users to log miles and earn shiny achievement charms that can be hooked onto their gear.

Research on whether the vests help build strength or bone density is limited but ongoing. Ed Laskowski, a specialist in sports medicine at the Mayo Clinic, cautions that “nothing supplants the foundational element of targeted strength training” for bone health.

Nevertheless, these vest brands hope to give women a social network along with a workout. YVO has organized weighted walking clubs in Miami, New York, Austin, and LA. A WhatsApp group now has more than 300 members, where women swap vest tips and post sweaty selfies from trails around the country. Events are coordinated by “lead warriors,” the playful name Berry gives brand ambassadors, who get a free vest in exchange for their time and enthusiasm.

The Carry’s Rucking Club, meanwhile, has planned local ruck meetups and is set to partner with fitness studios for classes. “Women are ready for this—they just need gear that fits their lives and their bodies,” says Sedgwick.