Buzz
I recall the first time I came across kettlebells in a gym. 'I’ve heard of these,' I thought, and decided to give some swings a try. I picked up one of the kettlebells and positioned myself in front of the mirror—hold on, I didn’t want to drop it and damage the mirror. So, I turned to the left, realizing that if I lost my grip, it could fly right toward the guy on the cable row machine. Each direction I faced had its own unique danger. If you’re swinging kettlebells in your apartment right now, you might be grappling with similar considerations, wondering whether to face your TV, the window, or the wall.
This is a common concern. As you swing a kettlebell, you're transferring serious power from some of your body's strongest muscles (your glutes, essentially), while trying to control that power with only the strength of your tiny fingers. 'Of course' it would go flying if even the smallest mistake happens. Or... would it?
Kettlebells flying out of control are incredibly rare
Almost everyone said “yes” to having the fear or at least thinking about it. However, actual occurrences were rare. I received 34 responses saying “nope, never” and only a few contrary answers. I also heard from several coaches and gym owners who mentioned they had never even witnessed it happen.
That said, it’s not completely unheard of. Two individuals shared stories of experiencing the very scenario that everyone fears. One sent the kettlebell crashing into a gym mirror, while the other tossed it harmlessly in his backyard. A few others had either witnessed it firsthand or heard about it from others.
Eric Addis, a personal trainer and kettlebell coach from Los Angeles, shared that he’s seen two kettlebell mishaps in person over nearly a decade of experience. Both incidents involved an unusually slippery grip. In one case, an instructor had just applied sunscreen and was immediately asked to demonstrate swings. In another, someone in a class was 'sweating like I’ve never seen before' and was using a kettlebell that was a bit heavier than recommended.
In both instances, the kettlebell flew forward, but fortunately, no one was in harm's way. (He estimated the bell thrown by the sunscreen-coated instructor traveled about ten feet.)
This doesn’t mean kettlebell mishaps overall are rare. I heard plenty of stories about people dropping a kettlebell while transferring it behind their body or needing to bail during a Turkish get-up. A few people also lost their grip mid-swing, but in these cases, the kettlebell simply fell to the ground without causing any further issue.
...even on YouTube
After going through dozens of responses, I realized I had to dive into the deepest part of the internet: YouTube. I typed 'kettlebell fail' into the search bar and braced myself for what I might find.
What I discovered is that kettlebell fails are often pretty dull, and most of the videos aren't real failures. People drop their bells in celebration or let them fall after a lift when they’re totally spent.
There were several videos of people not quite nailing a snatch or a juggling move, causing them to drop the kettlebell. Occasionally, someone falls during the process but appears to be fine. I'd say if you're at the stage in your kettlebell journey where you’re juggling bells or competing with high-rep snatches, you've likely come to terms with these possibilities.
The only true flying kettlebell fail I could find is at the 1:31 mark in this video. The competitor is doing snatches, a move that starts as a one-handed swing and then goes over her head. She loses grip during the swing and the bell flies a few feet ahead. She hurries forward to retrieve it, and there's an awkward moment where both she and the judges laugh. That’s all.
But enough theory, we need experimental evidence
That information should pretty much settle it, but I could not let this question go without throwing some kettlebells around my backyard. For science.
I have two kettlebells. On a scale of small-medium-large, one is what I’d call medium (16 kg, or 35 pounds; a popular weight for someone my size) and the other is off the charts at “honkin’ ginormous” (40 kg, or 88 pounds).
The results on the big boi were definitive: no matter what I do to it, it’s not going anywhere. Several times I gave it a great big heave and released my grip; it traveled maybe a couple inches. There just wasn’t enough force to overcome its mass.
Think about this as a physics problem for a moment. It takes a lot of force to move a heavy kettlebell. If the bell in question is really massive, it takes all the force you’ve got just to get it to arm’s length. There’s not enough extra power there to make it go very far. So if it’s a challenge to pick up a big bell and hold onto it in the first place, you’re not going to send it flying.
Let’s explore a more typical scenario. I managed to get some distance with the medium kettlebell, though not as much as I had feared. My best throw—using a lot of force and releasing at the worst possible moment—traveled just under seven feet. (I measured the divots in the grass to come to this conclusion, but for a visual reference, the garden shed behind me is exactly eight feet long.)
While seven feet might seem like a considerable distance, any gym wall or mirror I’ve encountered while swinging would have been just fine with that.
I experimented with a few other variables, but all of them resulted in less distance. For example, if you lose your grip when the kettlebell is near the top of the swing, it’s already lost most of its forward momentum and will likely just fall straight down.
How to avoid this rare occurrence
So what does all this mean for the average kettlebell enthusiast who may be somewhat apprehensive? Besides the fact that this should already have eased your mind, there are a few steps you can take to make your practice even safer.
First, pay attention to what’s in front of you. If you’re curious how far your kettlebell might actually fly, take it to a park or your backyard and conduct the same experiment I did. This isn’t forbidden knowledge.
If you do manage to send a kettlebell flying, it could roll or bounce after its short flight, potentially hitting bystanders or nearby equipment. Even if the kettlebell simply drops, it could dent your floor if it’s heavy enough. This is just another reason to be aware of your surroundings.
Second, focus on your grip. (Chalk or liquid chalk can give you extra traction if you’re concerned.) Addis says that most people can tell when they’re losing their grip, and the best solution is to set the kettlebell down rather than attempting another swing.
He agreed that there’s little risk of a flying kettlebell when swinging a very heavy one like the one I demonstrated earlier. Similarly, there’s not much risk with a very light kettlebell, especially for casual exercisers just starting out. In this case, the bell is so small that you don’t generate much force, meaning there’s not enough propulsion for it to go anywhere.
The bottom line is that a flying kettlebell requires a perfect storm: significant power from the hips, a bell that’s on the heavier side but not excessively so, a weakening grip, and—if you want a true catastrophe—something fragile right in front of you. Avoid creating that scenario, and there’s very little to worry about.
