She looks like she was engineered in a lab. The red carpet premiere of Wuthering Heights. The blonde hair. The legs that seem to have no bottom.
But Margot Robbie? She isn’t trying to be a goddess. Not really.
Her personal trainer, David Higgins, says the goal was simple. Survive. Or rather, stay strong. Physically. Mentally. Just… fit.
“For her, it’s about nothing more than being healthy.”
No brief for Barbie. No directive to shrink her waist or pump her arms into cartoonish proportions. David just kept the cast moving. There wasn’t an aesthetic mandate. Which fits. Margot hated the idea that one version of Barbie was the ideal for women. So her trainer didn’t force her body to conform to a mold either.
It’s refreshing. We expect Hollywood stars to suffer for their art. Or for the mirror. Instead, we get a woman who just wants to feel capable.
The Actual Work
I’m standing in Bodyspace. Knightsbridge, London. David’s “office” is larger than my home. The art on the walls could pay for my student loans. I have one hour with the man.
Here is what happens when you train with Margot.
It’s strength work. Reformer Pilates. Full body. Every single session.
The Routine
- Warm-up: Foam roll. 5 minutes. Get the fascia happy.
- Strength Circuit: 15 reps each. Minimal rest.
- Supine chest press
- Bent-over row (right side)
- Bent-over row (left side)
- Standing bicep curl
- Seated shoulder press
- Supine skull crushers
Then, the 100-Rep Ab Challenge.
- 20 crunches
- 20 toe taps (legs closed)
- 20 toe tabs (left reach)
- 20 toe ticks (right reach)
- 20 toe tams (legs closed)
- 20 curtsy lunges (right)
- 20 cursty lunges (left)
After that? The Pilates reformer.
David ignores reps on the machine. He uses time. Two minutes per movement. Wheelbarrows. Planks. Glute kickbacks. Leg circles.
Why 15-20 reps for strength? Precision.
It’s not just about the pump. It’s about form. David fixes your alignment in that rep range. It tears the muscle fibers—sarcomeric hypertrophy, he calls it. Micro-tears. They heal back stronger. That’s biology.
Reformer keeps the mechanics smooth. It protects the joints. Strength builds the compound groups. They feed each other. Margot listens to her body. Feel strong? Lift heavy. Feel fragile? Go to the mat. No rigid schedule. Just intuition.
Skipping Cardio?
Technically.
For Barbie, the cast danced for four hours a day. Cardio? Already done.
But in our gym? Strength is cardio if you do it right.
“Strength training can act as secret cardio.”
David calls it the venous shunt. When you push weight from your arms to your legs, your heart screams. It has to redirect blood flow rapidly. Upper body to lower body. The pulse spikes.
He makes it harder with one trick. Hold dumbbells at your chest. Above the heart.
Try lifting. Breathe.
When the weight is above your heart, the heart has to pump upward against gravity. My lungs burned. Stability wobbled. A small change. Massive result.
Core Everything
This isn’t optional.
Mid-way through a skull crusher, David tells me to bring my knees up. Tabletop position. Hips at 90 degrees.
The weight suddenly feels double.
“It forces your core to brace.”
It fixes “rib flaring.” You know what that is? Ribs stick out when the core is asleep. Tense the middle. Keep the cage down.
Then the 100-ab challenge returns.
Margot does this five times per workout. 500 crunches. Daily. For I, Tonya. For Barbie.
I am a yoga teacher. I trust my abs.
David did not warn me about the volume until halfway through. No rest allowed. I failed. Miserably.
Later, on the reformer carriage, he makes us hold a plank. A plank on a sliding board. Unstable.
Margot can hold this for 4 minutes and 4 seconds.
I lasted one.
Then planks into pikes. Then planks again. My core was toast. Smoked. Burned out.
Show Up. Again.
Consistency. Boring word.
It’s the only word that matters.
Muscle doesn’t grow in a day. It takes 6-12 weeks of showing up. Margot and David worked on and off for years. Barbie took 12 weeks of daily work.
David handled the food too. Nutritionist hat on.
Exercise is small. A small slice.
Diet. Sleep. Stress. Genetics. Sex. Age.
The puzzle is huge. Lifting weights is just one piece. If you skip the diet, the lifting doesn’t save you. If you don’t sleep, the growth stops.
When There Is No Time
In Suicide Squad, Margot trained for three hours. Five days a week. Insane.
For Barbie, it was manageable. 45 minutes to an hour. Five days a week.
Time didn’t matter. Only presence did.
Train at 12:30? Fine.
Train for 30 minutes if that’s all you have? Better than zero.
“It was a matter of training when the cast was free.”
If an hour appeared, take an hour. If thirty minutes appeared, take thirty.
The myth of the “perfect workout slot” is dead. There is no perfect time. There is just now.
David had five other clients after me. In different time zones. He kept moving.
I kept breathing. Harder than usual. My arms shook. My glutes screamed.
But I wasn’t destroyed. Just tired.
Which is probably how you’re supposed to feel. Not broken. Just alive.
Do you have 15 minutes?
Maybe.
Or maybe not. But that’s okay too.
