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Why Curiosity Is The Greatest Tool

Fri, 05 Sep 2025 17:43:25 GMT

What training a 75-year-old client taught me about humility, observation, and the power of not having all the answers

Some stories in our teaching lives feel so layered that they circle back to where we began. This past week, I found myself in one of those full-circle moments.

I was training the parents of a friend I grew up with in the dance world. Her older brother and I did countless community theater productions together, memorizing lines in dark rehearsal halls and joking backstage between costume changes. We even share a birthday — though I’m younger, of course, and always make sure to remind him of that fact.

Their sister, the one closest to me, was my companion in hours of dance classes, rehearsals, and trips to New York City. Our moms tap danced together and were the ones corralling us on those bus rides to Broadway auditions. I have vivid memories of all of us bundled up in the cold, shuffling down city streets with excitement and nerves. Movement and performance connected us all back then, and in some ways it still does.

Fast forward to this week: I was invited to train their parents.

Meeting the Father

The mother was delightful to work with — attentive, cheerful, and open to trying new things. Then it was time to switch to the father.

He’s about 75, slim, and stands just around six feet tall. A former ER doctor, which means he spent decades standing, moving, and making decisions under pressure. No major injuries or ailments to speak of, but he did casually mention that ever since his cataract surgery, he’s been tripping more often. A small comment, but one that I tucked away in the back of my mind.

Because balance issues are so often at the root of falls — and because falls can be devastating for older adults — I started him with something simple: calf raises at the Cadillac.

The Cadillac has a solid upright bar, and with his hands lightly resting there, I asked him to lift both heels.

He did it beautifully. Smooth, controlled, no excessive sway in the spine.

So I added a small progression. I had him lift one foot off the ground and then raise up onto the ball of the other.

On his right side, it wasn’t perfect, but he managed it. A little wobble, but completely within range for someone his age.

Then we switched sides. He lifted his right foot off the ground, planted through the left, and tried to raise his right heel.

Nothing happened.

The Heel That Wouldn’t Lift

At first, I thought he had misunderstood my cue. So I explained again: “Try lifting your heel up, like you’re tiptoeing.”

He tried again. His upper body leaned forward slightly. His right knee bent. His grip on the Cadillac tightened. But that right heel stayed flat, as though glued to the floor.

He frowned, tried again, and the same thing happened.

The effort was there. The intention was clear. But the movement wasn’t.

His daughter — my childhood friend, now an occupational therapist — and I caught each other’s eyes across the room. We shared that silent professional exchange: Wait… why? Hip? Obliques? Something neurological?

The puzzle was right there in front of us. And in that moment, I felt something important rise up in me: curiosity.

The Myth of the All-Knowing Teacher

Let me pause here, because this is the heart of the story.

People sometimes assume that as a movement teacher with decades of experience, I’ve seen it all, or I have an answer for every strange quirk the body reveals. They expect I’ll be able to diagnose, explain, and fix on the spot.

The truth? I don’t know everything. And I don’t pretend to.

In fact, I think one of the most dangerous traps for any teacher — Pilates, Barre, dance, or otherwise — is to believe we should know everything. To cling so tightly to being the expert that we stop being the student.

What keeps me going after 25+ years of teaching isn’t certainty. It’s curiosity.

That man’s heel not lifting wasn’t a “failure” of either of us. It was an invitation to investigate.

Curiosity as a Teaching Tool

Curiosity changes the way we approach teaching. It shifts us from:

Answer-giving → to question-asking
Performance → to exploration
Control → to partnership

When his heel wouldn’t lift, I could have glossed over it. Moved him on to another exercise. Pretended it didn’t matter. But what a missed opportunity that would have been.

Instead, curiosity held me in the moment. It made me slow down, observe his strategies, ask better questions. Was it strength? Coordination? Motor control? A neurological hiccup? Something as simple as long-standing asymmetry?

I didn’t have the answer right then, but curiosity gave us something better: awareness.

What I Saw in Him

I also saw the frustration in his face. He was trying. He was used to his body responding when he told it to move.

As a former ER doctor, I imagine he spent a career being the one with the answers. In that hospital setting, not knowing wasn’t an option. You had to decide, act, fix.

Here, on the Cadillac, the roles flipped. He didn’t have control over his body in that moment, and I didn’t have a neat answer to give him.

And that’s okay.

Because movement is rarely straightforward. Our bodies are layered: muscular, neurological, structural, emotional. Something as seemingly small as a cataract surgery could shift his visual input just enough to alter his balance patterns. Decades of movement habits could have created asymmetry that only reveals itself in specific circumstances. The “why” matters, but the curiosity matters more.

Beyond the Heel: Lessons for All of Us

This session reminded me of several bigger truths:

Progress isn’t always linear. Sometimes what you uncover isn’t a step forward, but a new question. That’s still progress.
Clients teach us as much as we teach them. Their bodies, their challenges, their triumphs — each one sharpens our observation skills.
Curiosity builds trust. Clients don’t need us to have every answer immediately. They need us to be engaged, attentive, and willing to explore alongside them.

The Power of Not Knowing

I sometimes tell new teachers I mentor: Don’t be afraid of the words “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know” doesn’t mean you’re unqualified. It doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you’re awake. You’re listening. You’re paying attention to what’s actually happening, not what you expected to happen.

And when “I don’t know” is paired with genuine curiosity, it becomes one of the most powerful tools we have.

It keeps us learning. It keeps us connected. It keeps us humble.

Closing the Loop

We didn’t solve the mystery of the heel that day. His daughter and I tossed around theories, made notes to watch for other patterns, and agreed it was something worth exploring further.

But the real takeaway wasn’t about whether his heel eventually lifted. It was about the process.

Because teaching — whether Pilates, Barre, or anything else — isn’t about always delivering perfect results. It’s about guiding, noticing, and wondering. It’s about creating space for discovery, even when discovery looks like a stubborn heel that won’t lift.

That’s what makes this work endlessly fascinating to me. After all these years, I’m still learning. Still asking questions. Still surprised.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Take Breaks When Necessary to Avoid Over Exhaustion

Wed, 03 Sep 2025 13:37:34 GMT

Why pacing, pause, and rest are just as important for our clients—and ourselves—as the workout itself.

As teachers, we live in the constant rhythm of cueing, correcting, motivating, and guiding others through movement. We spend hours on our feet, holding energy for the room, and keeping classes flowing. At the same time, we’re role models. What we say, how we demonstrate, and the choices we make in our own bodies communicate to clients more than we realize.

One of the most under-discussed but essential lessons we can model for our clients—and remember for ourselves—is this: take breaks when necessary to avoid overexertion.

Micro-Breaks in Class: The Natural Pause

If you’ve been teaching for any length of time, you’ve seen it:

A client in the Hundred quietly drops their head down for a few beats, then picks it back up.
During thighwork at the barre, someone pauses mid-burn, shakes out their legs, then jumps back in.
A student hangs in forward fold just a little longer before rejoining the group.

These micro-breaks are natural. They’re often all a client needs—a few seconds of release to reset their nervous system, let go of tension, or breathe before re-engaging. As teachers, we don’t need to panic when we see it. In fact, I often encourage it.

But not all “breaks” are created equal. And as teachers, we can help clients (and ourselves) understand the difference between a strategic pause and a necessary step back.

Knowing the Difference: Fatigue vs. Exhaustion

It’s one thing to pause to shake off muscle fatigue; it’s another to ignore genuine exhaustion. This is where our role as teachers expands from technical guidance to thoughtful coaching.

Fatigue is expected. Muscles burn, form wavers, focus fades. A mini-break often does the trick.
Exhaustion , on the other hand, is deeper. It comes from zero sleep, a packed work schedule, emotional stress, or stacking intense workouts (hello, marathon training or multi-day hikes). In these cases, pushing through doesn’t build strength—it risks breakdown.

Our job isn’t to shame clients into pushing harder. It’s to give them permission to recognize when the best choice is to pace, modify, or even rest.

The Culture of Rest Day Guilt

Here’s the tough truth: rest day guilt is real. Clients (and teachers too) often feel like skipping a workout is failing. We live in a culture that glorifies “never miss a Monday” and “no days off.”

But here’s what I’ve seen over decades of teaching: guilt disappears quickly when comfort shows up. And comfort often arrives in the form of a small movement check-in.

A client who skips barre because they’re wrecked might do a 1-minute plank and feel strong, knowing they still connected to their core.
Someone who takes a rest day from Reformer might bang out 20 push-ups and feel reassured they’re not “losing ground.”
For me, comfort can come from a quick stretch, a walk, or a few Pilates bridges—something that connects me back to movement without draining energy.

The point is: rest days don’t have to mean zero movement. They can mean choosing comfort over exertion. That’s not laziness—it’s wisdom.

Teaching Clients Ownership of Their Breaks

As teachers, we can normalize breaks as part of the training process, not an interruption. That starts with the language we use.

Instead of:

“Don’t stop!”
“Push through, no breaks!”

Try:

“Listen to your body—take a pause if you need to.”
“Shake it off, then jump back in when you’re ready.”
“Rest is part of the work.”

We can also highlight how breaks can be used strategically:

In thighwork, pausing to stretch the quads before rejoining.
In arm series, setting weights down for a few reps, then picking them up again.
In abdominal work, choosing to focus on controlled breathing instead of reps for a cycle.

When we model and permit ownership of breaks, clients feel empowered to trust their bodies. That’s how longevity in movement is built.

Teacher to Teacher: Don’t Forget Yourself

And here’s the kicker: we teachers are often the worst offenders. We preach balance but skip our own rest days. We say “take care of your body” while stacking on classes, privates, workshops, and training hours until there’s no space left.

I’ve been there—overextended, running on fumes, telling myself I’ll “rest later.” But the truth is, breaks are what allow us to show up fresh, inspired, and strong for our clients. Without them, burnout is inevitable.

So here’s my gentle reminder to you, teacher-to-teacher:

Take the nap.
Cancel the extra workout.
Stretch instead of sprint.
Say no when your schedule (and your body) is already full.

You won’t lose credibility by resting—you’ll gain longevity in your teaching career.

Finding Your Comfort

Rest looks different for everyone. For some, it’s a full day off with zero movement. For others, it’s an active recovery walk or light stretching. For me, it often means giving myself permission to scale back instead of power through.

I find comfort in small, grounding movements when guilt creeps in: a plank, some push-ups, a spinal twist. They remind me that I’m still in my body, still strong, still committed—but I’m honoring my energy for the long haul.

That’s what I encourage my clients (and fellow teachers) to do as well: find your comfort, lean in, and release the guilt.

Because at the end of the day, the break you take today may be the very thing that keeps you moving for decades to come.

Feel the Beat: How Music Shapes Group Fitness Classes

Tue, 15 Jul 2025 13:48:15 GMT

From Barre to Pilates, discover how music enhances mood, motivation, and movement—and why teaching with rhythm isn't just about the playlist.

When I step in front of a group fitness class, whether it’s Barre, or Pilates, there’s one subtle but powerful tool that can elevate the experience instantly: music. It’s often invisible in the planning, unspoken during class, but undeniably present in every pulse, every stretch, and every emotional rise in the room.

The Unseen Conductor: How Music Guides Movement

In a group fitness setting, music is more than background noise—it’s a guide, a motivator, and at times, even a co-instructor. In Barre-based classes like BarSculpt, music has a direct relationship with how fast or slow we move. It sets the tempo of a plié, the drive of a glute kickback, and even the depth of a final stretch.

I often describe it this way: imagine teaching without music—it’s doable, yes, but without that rhythmic push, the collective energy of the room can feel less cohesive. Music creates a shared pace, a shared heartbeat. It influences whether a client challenges their limits or glides into rest.

Creating the Barre Playlist: A Simple Formula That Works

In BarSculpt and Barre-style classes, I keep my playlist formula fairly simple: two upbeat songs followed by a slower stretch or transition song. This rhythm—energize, push, recover—not only works physiologically but psychologically as well. Clients come to expect the shift, and their bodies respond accordingly.

A big tip I give to newer instructors: use your playlist as your class clock.
If you're teaching a 45-minute class, set your playlist to match that length. If you're only halfway through your sequence and the playlist is wrapping up, it's a clear signal that you're moving too slowly. If you're done and you still have 15 minutes of music left, you've gone too fast. It's a subtle but effective pacing tool, especially when you're still learning how to structure a class in real time.

The music doesn’t need to be trendy or familiar; it just needs to be thoughtfully chosen. I avoid anything that makes the class feel like a club at 7 a.m., but I’m also not afraid to play something that makes clients smile or hum along. That flicker of recognition—of joy—can go a long way in motivation.

Teaching to the Beat vs. Using Music as a Mood

One of the biggest distinctions between Barre and Pilates is how music is used. In Barre, we often teach to the beat. Pulses, tempo changes, and transitions sync with the rhythm of the song. In many cases, we’re counting reps or cueing to phrases in the music. It becomes choreography without the pressure of performing.

In Pilates, however, music serves a different role. It supports the mood rather than directing movement. I prefer mid-level energy—think Enya, mellow electronica, or instrumental ambient playlists. Music should be felt but not heard overtly. It should never overpower the breath or dominate the room. Pilates is an internal practice, and the music must respect that space.

Some teachers ask me if they should use music at all during Pilates, and I always answer: if it enhances the practice, use it. If it distracts, cut it. For me, having a calming, steady background helps regulate the room without dictating how the body should move. The breath—not the beat—is the metronome in Pilates.

Teaching Without Music: Why You Won’t Find It On My Website

If you’ve explored my on-demand library, you’ll notice something: I don’t teach to music online. Not because I don’t love it (I do), but because licensing music for on-demand content is a logistical (and legal) headache. Sync licensing, royalty payments, regional limitations—it’s more than most fitness pros have time or budget for.

And to be totally honest? The royalty-free music options out there often drive me crazy. I’ve tried to use them, and I almost always regret it. What sounds okay in a live studio class feels flat or forced on video. Some of it makes me feel like I’m in an elevator. Other times it’s like I’ve walked into a merry-go-round playing techno remixes of Mozart. It distracts more than it delivers.

This is one reason I’ve chosen to create videos without music. I’d rather the sound be clear, the cueing direct, and the movement intentional. Clients can add their own playlists at home, and many do. I always say: press play on what motivates you.

The Instructor as the DJ… and the Drummer

A good instructor doesn’t just pick a playlist—they set the beat, whether music is playing or not. This is where your voice, timing, and energy step in. You can mimic a rhythm with your words. “Pulse, pulse, pulse, hold.” That cadence becomes the music. If your mic fails, your class should still move with you.

I’ve had moments teaching in person when the speaker battery died, or the Bluetooth cut out mid-song. In those moments, it’s on you to keep the energy going. Clapping, vocalizing, stomping—whatever it takes to keep the rhythm alive. You become the metronome, and your class will follow.

The Science Behind the Sound

Research supports what we intuitively know: music changes how we move. Studies show that people naturally sync their movement to music—even when they don’t realize they’re doing it. Fast-paced songs can increase exertion and endurance. Slower songs help with recovery and relaxation. The right playlist can make time pass faster and reduce perceived effort. It's a legal performance enhancer—no side effects required.

In group fitness, this means a well-timed shift in music can push a class through the hardest part of the workout, or help them fully let go in the final stretch. Music helps create the arc of an experience, not just a series of exercises.

Why It Matters

At its core, music helps us feel more. It connects us to the present moment. In a fitness class, it connects us to each other. That communal breath during a slow song, that shared smile during a nostalgic beat drop—it brings us closer, makes us work harder, and leaves us walking out with a better mood than we walked in with.

As an instructor, your relationship with music doesn’t have to be complicated. You don’t need to be a DJ. You just need to listen—to your class, to your environment, and to the way movement and music can work together to create something bigger than the sum of its parts.

So next time you step into class, whether you’re the teacher or the student, take a moment to notice the music. Is it driving you? Supporting you? Distracting you? Helping you stay in rhythm with yourself?

And if you’re teaching? Remember: music is a tool—not the teacher. You are the teacher. And with or without a playlist, your energy is the real soundtrack.

Why Is Barre Still So Hard? (Even After 565 Classes!)”

Sun, 13 Jul 2025 20:43:43 GMT

Unlocking the Mystery of Chair, Waterskier & the Power of Daily Movement Patterns

You’ve clocked in 565 barre classes. You’ve seen your strength, stamina, and grit evolve—but still, every time the instructor cues “chair” or “waterskier,” something inside you wilts. Your legs tremble. Your back arches. Your brain screams. You’re not alone—and more importantly, there’s nothing wrong with you. In fact, these are signs that the workout is still doing what it’s supposed to do.

The short answer to your excellent question—“Why are chair and waterskier so hard after all this time?”—is because those exercises are brilliantly designed to reveal how you move. Let’s unpack this.

Barre, Like Pilates, Uses Your Body as the Equipment

Both Pilates (especially mat Pilates) and Barre are unique in that your body is the main piece of apparatus. You are the machine, the weight, the driver, and the limiter.

In each class, you’re not adding heavy external weights (though props like bands and balls can intensify things)—you’re working against yourself. Your own range of motion. Your own strength, flexibility, mobility, and habits. So progress isn’t always measured in heavier weights or faster reps. It’s measured in how deep you go into an exercise, how steadily you can hold it, how connected your movement becomes.

And that, right there, is part of the mystery: you cannot always tell how hard you’re working or how deep you’re moving. That’s because:

Your body changes daily.
Sleep, hydration, stress, the shoes you wore, the desk you sat at, how long you drove, whether you stretched—it all affects your body’s feedback loop. That loop determines how an exercise feels.
Form isn’t just what it looks like—it’s how it functions.
The shape might be the same every time, but how you fire the muscles, where you place your weight, and what range of motion your joints allow is in constant flux.

Let’s Break Down Your Nemeses: Chair and Waterski

1. Chair (aka Thighwork Wall Sit Without the Wall)

Chair is often described as a wall squat with no wall—and the moment you get into position, you understand why the wall usually helps. In Chair, you’re typically standing with your feet hips-width apart, heels lifted, knees bent deeply, spine vertical (not pitched forward), and arms lifted. And then… you hold it. Maybe you pulse. Maybe you do little knee presses. And it burns.

Why it’s hard:

You’re using front-of-leg muscles (quadriceps), but you’re also disengaging your glutes to isolate those quads.
You’re firing upper back muscles to hold the posture while resisting the urge to collapse the chest.
You are balancing on the balls of your feet—already a tricky proposition for most of us.
The movement is tiny and isolated. You don’t get momentum or large muscle groups to rescue you.

Daily habit tie-in:

Most of us are not accustomed to quad dominance without some gluteal help. In daily life, our glutes kick in to help us stand, walk, and get out of chairs. Chair removes that crutch and demands your body respond differently. That’s why it feels like your thighs are on fire—they’re doing a solo act, and they’re not used to it.

Also, Chair demands that you maintain a 90/90 position at the hip and knee. If you’re someone who leans forward at the desk or on walks, this can feel disorienting or unstable.

2. Waterskier

This exercise sounds fun and breezy, but it’s often one of the most grueling in a Barre class. Typically, you’re standing on one leg, with the other extended behind you (possibly with a band around your thigh or a small ball behind the knee). You’re leaning slightly back, your supporting leg is bent, and the lifted leg moves subtly behind you—an isometric hold with micro-movements that test your resolve.

Why it’s hard:

It puts you in a position where your glute (on the extended leg) has to lift and extend without assistance from the hamstring.
You’re often in a deep bend on the standing leg while balancing on the ball of your foot.
Your body is leaning back but your leg is pressing back—opposing forces that demand coordination, core strength, and serious focus.

Daily habit tie-in:

If you tend to walk with a shortened stride or let your hips sway side-to-side, then the ability to extend the leg directly behind you—while keeping the hips square—can be severely limited. This makes Waterski extra challenging.

Plus, if your weight is typically centered backwards in your feet , being asked to balance on the balls of your feet and off your heels feels wrong… but is actually very right.

Why These Exercises Never Get Easier (And That’s a Good Thing)

You might expect that after 100, 200, or 500+ classes, these positions would be second nature. But the truth is, they evolve as you do.

Here’s why they keep feeling hard:

You’re getting better.
Better form means deeper work. The movement might be smaller, but the muscles are more isolated and engaged.
You’re more aware.
With experience comes awareness. You know when your knee collapses or your back arches—and now you work to correct it. That self-correction burns more energy.
You’re using feedback wisely.
Barre teaches you to listen. On the days you’re wobbly, sore, or off-center, you adjust. And on the days you feel strong, you go deeper. Both are valid. Both are hard.
The exercises are revealing more about your habits.
Just like Pilates, Barre is diagnostic in nature. If an exercise feels disproportionately difficult, it might be because it highlights a weak link in your kinetic chain. That doesn’t mean you’re broken—it means the work is exactly where it needs to be.

How to “Win” at Chair and Waterskier (Spoiler: You Already Are)

You don’t have to master Chair or Waterski to benefit from them. In fact, the struggle is the benefit. But if you’re seeking a little more joy (or at least less dread), try the following:

Adjust your stance.
A slight shift in foot placement or depth can make all the difference. If your heels are too close together, your knees may knock and throw you off. Try widening your base and focusing on knee alignment.
Focus on breath and tempo.
Holding your breath during these exercises is common. Instead, try to exhale during the hardest part of the move (usually the pulse or the extension). Breath brings oxygen—and sanity.
Visualize your muscles.
Picture your glutes squeezing as you press the leg back in Waterskier. Visualize the calves lifting your heels in Chair. Mind-muscle connection is real—and powerful.
Check your habits.
How do you sit? Walk? Stand? These positions challenge us to undo patterns that are deeply ingrained. Pay attention outside of class, and the work may feel more manageable in class.

Still Hooked? Want More?

Barre and Pilates share something magical: the more you learn about them, the more they give you back. That’s why I created a full Barre Teacher Training program—not just for aspiring teachers, but for anyone who wants to go deeper into the why and how of the movement.

And if you’re ready to make progress week by week, I also offer a 52-week program that delivers a new workout every week—each one building on the last, progressing thoughtfully, and giving your body the time it needs to grow and adapt.

No race. No pressure. Just steady strength and deeper understanding.

Barre isn’t just a workout. It’s a window into how you live, move, and hold yourself. Chair and Waterskier are hard because they challenge your posture, your balance, your habits, and your strength—all at once.

And if they still “kill you” after 565 classes, that’s not failure. That’s proof that you’re showing up, doing the work, and uncovering new layers every single time.

Here’s to your next 565.

Ready to learn more?

Explore Teacher Training | Join the 52-Week Program | Take Class with Me

When the Show Can’t Go On: The Emotional Load of Being “On” as a Barre and Pilates Teacher

Thu, 10 Jul 2025 22:28:28 GMT

Why we need to plan for emergencies, protect our energy, and remember that teaching movement is not just physical work—it’s emotional labor.

This morning started out like any other. I woke early, dressed in layers, grabbed my coffee, and headed to Portsmouth’s waterfront for my 7am barre class. These classes have become a rhythm in my life—a way to ground my day, serve my community, and warm up my own body before teaching my 8:15am Reformer class. With the tight timing between my two classes and my commute, I’ve been teaching that early class in a public park. But today, the skies didn’t cooperate. It was raining, and I had to improvise.

So I sat in my car and taught virtually from the driver’s seat, cueing through a barre class without visual demonstration—something I can do pretty seamlessly after two and a half decades of teaching. I kept my tone upbeat, used precise language, and held the space like I always do. Teaching, even in a parked car, requires a presence—a performance of sorts. You don’t bring your stuff with you. You give your all, and your clients never really know if you’re having a hard day unless you choose to tell them.

And then my Apple Watch buzzed.

It was my mom.

I didn’t answer the first time. It buzzed again. And again. On the third call, I stopped what I was doing.

I looked at my advanced Reformer class—eyes on me, waiting—and said, “I have to take this call.”

What happened next is hard to write, harder to live through, and nearly impossible to process while standing in front of a room full of people expecting you to cue their hamstring curls.

My mother, in hysterics, told me that her best friend Georgia had died. Georgia, who is also the mother of one of my best friends. Georgia, who has been a fixture in our lives. Georgia, who is now gone.

I told my mom I loved her. I told her I would call her back. And then I turned to my class.

The Demand of Performance in Movement Teaching

If you’re not a Barre or Pilates teacher, it might be hard to understand the level of performance we’re expected to give every time we lead a class. And yes, I use the word “performance” intentionally—not because we’re faking anything, but because we’re required to be energetically present, communicative, precise, motivating, watchful, and on at all times.

We don’t get to walk into class and say, “Hey guys, I’m having a rough day, so I’ll be behind my desk if you need me.”

We don’t get to close our office door and cry.

We don’t get to go to the bathroom and collect ourselves when a call like the one I got this morning comes in.

We’re front and center. Eyes are on us. And more than that—people rely on us to hold the container. For many, we’re the most encouraging voice they hear all week. Our job is part education, part motivation, and part emotional regulation—not just for our clients, but for ourselves.

So today, when I hung up the call, I knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t continue teaching.

And I knew I needed help.

The Importance of Emergency Plans

I texted my manager. Asked her to cover my remaining day. Two more classes. Two privates. I couldn’t fake it. Not today.

And the truth is—I shouldn’t have to.

In my 25 years of teaching, I’ve learned this lesson before. One of the most unforgettable moments happened decades ago, when I was teaching at the Lotte Berk Method in New York. My manager, Fred DeVito, walked into my class and gently tapped my arm. I walked over, concerned, and he said, “You need to go make a phone call.”

He took my mic and finished the class for me.

The call was to tell me my father had been in a car accident trying to make it home to Maine. I didn’t get there in time.

Fred’s presence and quick thinking meant I didn’t have to keep teaching after getting the worst news of my life.

If you’re a studio owner, a teacher, or even a solo practitioner—please, have a plan. Know who can take over for you. Know how to bow out gracefully, or not so gracefully. Create a team, even if you’re freelance.

And if you’re a student—please, show your teacher grace.

Teaching Is Not Just Physical Work—It’s Emotional Labor

Let me be clear: I love my job. I love my clients. I love helping people move better, get stronger, and feel more connected to their bodies.

But teaching movement isn’t just a technical skill. It’s emotional work. It takes every ounce of your focus, clarity, and grounded energy to show up and lead. It means giving feedback. Adjusting clients. Motivating without pushing too hard. Offering modifications while cueing the entire class.

And that’s on a good day.

On a day like today? It feels impossible.

Because when your heart is breaking, it’s not just hard to say the words—you can’t even access the mental clarity to cue movement patterns, let alone correct form or offer encouragement.

I told my mother this morning, “I don’t have the kind of job where I can just go cry in the bathroom.”

That’s what we sign up for when we teach. And it’s why having backup, boundaries, and community matters so much.

How to Prepare (As Much as You Can)

If you’re a newer teacher, here’s what I wish someone had told me years ago:

Have an Emergency Protocol
Know who you can call. Know who has your playlists, your Zoom link, your Reformer sequence. Share your schedule with one trusted colleague. Keep things accessible in case someone has to step in quickly.
Give Yourself Permission to Cancel
This one is hard. We pride ourselves on being consistent, reliable, energetic leaders. But we are human. If you get news that shatters your world, you are allowed to say, “I cannot teach today.”
Talk to Your Studio or Employer About Crisis Support
If you run a studio, implement a “Fred policy.” That means someone always knows how to step in, even if it’s just to hold space. If you’re staff, talk to your manager now—before something happens—about how emergencies are handled.
Practice Being Honest with Clients
Clients don’t need the whole story, but being honest in small ways builds trust. “I’m having a tough morning, so today’s class might be quieter, more focused.” Or “I’m not feeling 100% but I’m here, and I’m grateful you are too.”
Notice Your Own Patterns
After 9/11, I needed to teach. I needed the focus. After my dad died, I needed time. There’s no one-size-fits-all response to tragedy. Notice your tendencies and honor them.

A Final Note for the Grievers, the Teachers, and the Humans

Today, I’m not just a teacher—I’m a friend mourning alongside one of my dearest friends who just lost her mom. I’m a daughter trying to comfort my own grieving mother. I’m a woman with a full, heavy heart.

And I’m someone who believes that we do our best work when we’re supported—not when we power through, disconnect, or hide our feelings in the name of “being professional.”

The work we do matters. But Barre and Pilates aren’t open-heart surgery. No one dies if we miss a cue or need to cancel class.

So let this be your reminder: if the show needs to be canceled, it’s okay to lower the curtain.

Cry when you need to.

Ask for coverage.

Train your backups.

Let your clients see your humanity.

And teach others—by example—that showing up for your own life is more important than teaching one more perfect class.

Because while we might be used to holding it all together, we’re allowed to fall apart sometimes too.

Why BarSculpt uses a Canvas Strap

Sun, 15 Jun 2025 14:36:32 GMT

Without D-Rings or Elastic

Safety, Precision, and the Right Tools for Results That Stick

In BarSculpt, nothing is arbitrary.

From the way we cue alignment to the way we choose props, everything has a reason —and the yoga strap is no exception. In fact, it’s one of the most important tools in our practice, and it’s something we’ve put a lot of thought into.

BarSculpt does not use elastic resistance bands.
We also do not use yoga straps with metal D-rings.

Instead, we use a plain canvas strap , ideally one with two pre-sewn loops and zero hardware .

Why? Because your safety matters, and the equipment you use directly impacts your results, your risk of injury, and your ability to stay present in class .

Let’s dive into why we’ve chosen this very specific strap—and what makes it essential to BarSculpt classes.

The Common Problems With Elastic Bands

Let’s start with the resistance bands that are all over social media, in most big-box gyms, and often bundled with at-home workouts.

Yes, they’re flexible and widely available.
But they’re also a safety hazard—and biomechanically unpredictable.

❌ 1. They Can Snap Without Warning

Most resistance bands are made of latex or rubber. Over time, these materials degrade—especially when exposed to:

Sunlight or heat (think: studio windows or cars)
Body oil, lotion, or sweat
Constant folding or overstretching

Many bands come with a thin powder coating to prevent them from sticking to themselves. But when that powder wears off, and the band sticks or cracks, it becomes prone to snapping .

And if it snaps? You’re not just dropping the prop—you’re potentially getting whipped in the face, eye, or body .

That’s a risk we’re simply not willing to take.

❌ 2. Tension Is Inconsistent and Confusing

There’s no universal system for band tension.

One company’s “light” band might be another’s “medium.”
The color coding isn’t standardized.
As the band ages, its resistance decreases—but you won’t always notice until your results plateau or your form suffers.

This matters in stretch work. Instead of creating space in the hips or hamstrings, students often find their forearms burning —pulling too hard on the band itself instead of targeting the intended muscle group.

BarSculpt is rooted in control, form, and alignment —not unpredictability.

Why BarSculpt Uses a Canvas Strap (and Only Canvas)

Now let’s talk about the canvas yoga strap we do use—and why it’s the right tool for the job.

This strap is typically made of 100% woven cotton canvas. It’s strong, non-stretchy, and gives you instant tactile feedback.

✅ 1. It Won’t Snap. Ever.

Canvas doesn’t dry out like latex. It doesn’t crack, degrade, or fray with regular use. And it won’t suddenly split in your hands when you’re mid-hamstring stretch.

That’s peace of mind—for both instructors and participants.

✅ 2. It’s Grip-Friendly and Intuitive

Our preferred strap has two sewn loops —one on each end. This makes it easy to:

Hook your foot into one loop
Hold the other end with your hand
Get precise control without wrapping it multiple times or choking the strap into submission

Unlike resistance bands or single-loop straps, you’re not guessing or adjusting the tension mid-movement. The feedback is instant and stable .

✅ 3. It Allows for Key BarSculpt Techniques

In BarSculpt, we often ask you to hold one end of the strap in each hand while using your foot to press into the center or opposite loop. This lets you:

Control your leg placement
Fix foot alignment issues like sickling or over-pointing
Stay active in the stretch rather than letting gravity take over

That’s not just more effective—it’s smarter movement education. You’re not passively stretching. You’re using the strap to strengthen proper mechanics , especially at the ankle, knee, and hip.

Why No D-Rings?

Many traditional yoga straps include metal D-rings at one end. These are used to:

Shorten the strap
Create a loop to catch the foot
Add resistance or limit slack

While that can be helpful in static yoga poses , it’s not ideal for BarSculpt or Barre-based movement.

Here’s why we avoid them:

⚠️ 1. D-Rings + Barre = Unsafe

In BarSculpt, we occasionally thread the strap over the barre for specific exercises. If there’s a metal D-ring at the end and it slips or releases unexpectedly, you’ve got:

A potential mirror-breaking projectile
A possible eye or face injury (yes, really)
A sudden drop in class safety and confidence

No one wants to flinch every time they hook a strap.

Removing the D-ring removes the risk. Full stop.

⚠️ 2. D-Rings Remove the Double-Handed Grip

BarSculpt’s approach relies on dynamic control —using both arms evenly to manipulate the strap, align the leg, and adjust the stretch.

If you’re locked into a closed D-ring loop, you often:

Have only one grip option
Lose the ability to fine-tune your tension
Have to wrap the strap awkwardly around your hand

This isn't helpful when precision is the point.

Yoga-style loop holds are fine for static poses. But in BarSculpt, we need adaptability and freedom of movement . That means two open ends —and no hardware in the way.

Real-Life Scenario: Why It Matters

Let’s say you're doing a supine hamstring stretch.

You’ve got your foot in the loop. You’re lying on your back, using both arms to gently pull the strap and rotate your foot for ankle awareness. Maybe you’re checking in on:

Do I sickle my ankle?
Is my foot flexed or pointed?
Can I adjust the turnout without losing the stretch?

Now imagine doing that with a stretchy band that keeps pulling back—or a D-ring strap that locks you into a loop.

Suddenly, your alignment opportunity disappears . You're fighting the tool, instead of using it.

This is why the strap matters. It’s not “just a prop.” It’s an extension of your brain , helping you rewire poor movement patterns and discover better ones.

What If You Don’t Have a BarSculpt Strap?

We get it—not everyone has the official strap at home. If you're practicing virtually, traveling, or improvising, here are safe alternatives (and what to avoid):

✅ Best Substitutes:

Dog Leash – Strong, no stretch, often has a loop already.
Yoga Pants or Leggings – Soft but firm. Great in a pinch.
Cotton Bathrobe Tie – Only if it’s thick and has no stretch.

❌ Avoid:

Resistance bands
Thin scarves or belts
Anything with metal parts

Your goal is to mimic the firm, non-stretch, two-ended feel of the real thing—without risking injury or sacrificing function.

The Bigger Message: The Right Equipment Supports the Right Results

BarSculpt is built on intention. Every movement, cue, and prop supports the outcome we want to give you:

Better movement
Better awareness
Better strength and flexibility
Long-term safety

The strap you use is part of that. A well-made, non-stretch, hardware-free strap helps you move better . A cracked rubber band or jerry-rigged loop with a metal ring? That’s just a liability waiting to happen.

The tools we choose are a reflection of our values—and our respect for your body.

Final Thoughts: Precision Requires the Right Gear

Here’s what it all boils down to:

If you want alignment , you need a strap that holds its shape.
If you want safety , you need a strap that won’t snap, recoil, or swing a D-ring into your face.
If you want effectiveness , you need a strap that lets you work with your body—not around faulty equipment.

That’s why BarSculpt uses and recommends a canvas strap with no hardware . We’re not being fancy—we’re being smart .

Want to Upgrade Your Setup?

If you’re still using an old resistance band or D-ring yoga strap, now’s the time to switch. You can purchase the same double-loop canvas strap we use in-studio directly at BarSculpt.com .

And if you have questions about how to use it—or whether you’re doing a stretch correctly—reach out. Helping you feel confident and safe in your body is what we’re here for.

Listen to your body- work within your limits

Mon, 07 Apr 2025 16:13:22 GMT

“When my back hurts, it reminds me how weak my core is.”

In my last blog, I talked about something that’s been on my mind for years: how frustrating it is when I hear someone say “Pilates hurt my back.” It makes me wince—not because I don’t believe their pain, but because I know from both personal and professional experience that when done correctly, Pilates should help your back, not harm it. I shared my story of developing a herniated disc during the pandemic, how I worked through that setback, and how mindful movement played a key role in my recovery.

What that blog kicked off, though, was something bigger. I received a comment on social media that really stuck with me. It said:

“When my back hurts, it reminds me how weak my core is.”

YES. That’s it. That’s the kind of awareness I love hearing from clients, students, and anyone on their movement journey. That comment tells me someone is listening to their body—and that’s the very first step toward building strength, stability, and resilience.

Now let’s dig into the next step.

Bodies Talk—Are You Listening?

We are taught to push through. To ignore discomfort. To be “tough.” And while there’s value in building mental grit, we lose something important when we drown out our body’s signals: We miss the messages that help us heal and grow.

Think of it like this: your body is speaking to you all the time. That little twinge in your low back when you first get out of bed? That’s not just aging or stiffness—it’s a whisper. It’s your body saying, “Hey, something’s up. Pay attention to how you move today.”

If you rush past it—sit all day, skip your core work, or dive into an advanced class without preparing properly—it might go from a whisper to a shout. And when the body shouts, it tends to do so through pain, inflammation, or injury.

The real art is learning to listen before it starts yelling.

The Morning Aggravation: A Clue, Not a Curse

I’ve had many mornings where I’ve felt that familiar stiffness or discomfort in my lower back. Not always pain—just an aggravation. In the past, I might have brushed it off or over-corrected by jumping straight into intense movement. But through years of teaching and recovering from my own injury, I’ve learned that those little sensations are clues. They help me decide what kind of support my body needs that day.

Maybe it’s more glute work to offload the spine. Maybe I need to stretch my hip flexors or do gentle abdominal work lying down before trying anything upright. Maybe I skip planks entirely that day. Listening doesn’t mean doing less—it means doing better.

Awareness is the First Step. Now What?

Back to that awesome comment—“when my back hurts, it reminds me how weak my core is.” I love that she’s listening. That she’s made a connection between the sensation (back pain) and a potential cause (core weakness). That’s huge.

But what do we do with that insight?

We start to change the narrative.

Let me explain.

If every time your back talks to you, you say “Ugh, I’m broken,” or “This always happens,” or “My body isn’t strong enough,” you create a loop. A limiting belief that becomes its own barrier to healing. But if you reframe it as, “My body is asking for support,” then suddenly, you’re in a place of power. You can respond instead of react. You can choose what to do next.

Changing the Narrative: A New Inner Dialogue

Instead of:

“My back hurts, so I better rest and do nothing.” Try:
“My back is asking for care. What movement will support it today?”

Instead of:

“I must’ve done something wrong in class.” Try:
“Was I paying attention to my alignment? Can I check in with a teacher or modify next time?”

Instead of:

“I’m too injured to work out.” Try:
“Which parts of me feel strong today, and how can I safely move?”

The narrative we create around pain and limitation can either keep us stuck or help us move forward. And sometimes, working within your limits actually means expanding your limits over time—strategically and compassionately.

Work Within Your Limits—But Don’t Mistake Limits for Laziness

Let’s clear something up: “working within your limits” does not mean you’re doing less. It means you’re doing what’s appropriate right now. It’s a practice in self-awareness and respect.

The tricky part is knowing the difference between a wise limit and a fear-based one.

Is avoiding abdominal work because you’re scared it might hurt your back?
Or are you modifying it to strengthen your abdominals without straining your spine?

There’s a difference between tuning in and tuning out. Working within your limits requires you to be present, curious, and committed to growth—even when that growth looks like a few deep, precise pelvic tilts on the mat instead of a full Teaser series.

What the Body is Really Saying

Pain is rarely just physical. Often, it’s layered with stress, fatigue, lack of sleep, emotional strain, or even fear. When I talk about “listening to your body,” I don’t just mean tuning in to physical discomfort. I mean stepping into a deeper conversation.

Your body might be saying:

“I need rest today.”
“Please hydrate me.”
“Let’s stretch gently before loading weight.”
“I’m ready to move—but slowly.”

When you learn to decode those messages, your movement practice becomes personal. And that’s where Pilates shines. It was designed to restore balance, not create strain. If your back hurts after Pilates, it’s not the method—it’s likely the execution. And that’s something we can always adjust.

From Listening to Action

So let’s go back to our question: What’s the next step after listening?

Start experimenting—with intention. Here are a few ways:

Track patterns. Keep a simple movement journal. Note when discomfort arises, what you did before or after, and how you responded.
Ask “what does this mean?” Instead of ignoring pain, get curious. Is your posture contributing? Are you overusing your back muscles instead of engaging your core?
Modify smartly. Use props, adjust range of motion, or change positions. Just because an exercise is done one way in class doesn’t mean that’s the only way.
Build foundational strength. A lot of “back pain” stems from weak or misfiring core muscles. Learn how to truly engage the transverse abdominis, pelvic floor, and obliques without gripping or tucking.
Educate yourself. Take workshops. Ask questions. Work with teachers who understand injury-modification and anatomy. (Yes, I offer a few options here—feel free to reach out.)

Final Thoughts: Empowered, Not Fragile

Your body isn’t fragile—it’s intelligent. It adapts, heals, strengthens, and communicates. And when something hurts, that’s not a sign you’re broken. It’s a signal to shift gears, to move smarter, and to partner with your body, not fight against it.

Pilates didn’t hurt your back. But maybe the way it was taught to you, or the way you approached it, didn’t match what your body needed in that moment.

That’s the real work—not just pushing through, but pausing to listen. And then adjusting with purpose.

So yes—work within your limits. But also work within your potential. Let your body’s messages guide you—not scare you. And remember, every twinge is a chance to come back to center, strengthen from the inside out, and shift the story you’re telling yourself.

Keep listening. Keep moving.

And if you ever need help interpreting what your body is saying—I’m here.

Ready to take the next step? Here’s how I can help:

�� Watch my On-Demand Pilates for Back Pain Video
If your back has been speaking up lately, this gentle, targeted session is a great place to start listening—and moving.
to Click Here for a Video

�� Join BarSculpt On Demand
Get unlimited access to classes that focus on strength, flexibility, and working smart. Modifications included in every session so you can move within your limits—and grow from there.

�� Become a Teacher Who Knows the 'Why'
Curious how to teach movement that supports healing instead of causing harm? My Pilates and Barre Teacher Training programs include anatomy, injury awareness, and strategies for real-world bodies.

�� Let’s Work Together 1:1
If you're not sure where to start or want personalized feedback, book a private virtual session with me.

A Sun-Kissed Winter & Exciting Updates for you!

Tue, 01 Apr 2025 18:28:09 GMT

A Season of Sunshine, Strength, and Exciting New Offerings!

Wow—did the first quarter of 2025 fly by for everyone else, or was that just me?

Hi everyone! I hope this finds you well and enjoying spring as much as possible. While many of you have been navigating a classic New England winter (or enjoying ski season!), I’ve had the good fortune to spend these past few months in San Juan, Puerto Rico with my daughter’s cat, Cleopatra. If you’ve taken my live or on-demand classes, you’ve probably seen her make a cameo or two!

Now, I totally get why people snowbird —it’s magical. The warm air, the sound of the waves, the never-ending sunshine… and yes, my beach sunset photos will keep coming (sorry, not sorry!). But as much as I’ve loved my time here, I miss you all and am looking forward to heading back to New England in just a month and a half.

Big Updates: What’s New & Exciting

Though I’ve been soaking up the sun, I’ve also been hunkering down and getting some serious work done . Here’s what’s new:

1. Revamped Websites for a Better Experience

I am not a web designer, but I’ve done my best to refresh both of my websites:

Live & On-Demand Workouts → www.BarSculpt.com w
Online Self-Paced Teacher Training → www.BarSculpt.Learnworlds.com www.barsculpt.learnworlds.com

These platforms now offer a smoother experience , making it easier than ever to join live classes, access workouts, or dive into teacher training . If you haven’t checked them out recently, take a look!

2. Mat Pilates Teacher Training is Now Live!

This has been a labor of love—I’ve officially completed my Online Self-Paced Mat Pilates Teacher Certification ! It’s designed to break everything down step by step , giving you the knowledge and confidence to teach Pilates effectively .

If you’re considering becoming a certified Mat Pilates instructor (or want a deeper dive into your personal practice), this program is now open for enrollment .

3. The "Fuck the Tuck" Webinar is Available!

Yep, you read that right. If you’ve ever heard the cue “Tuck your pelvis!” and wondered why (or if) you should be doing it , this is for you.

The Fuck the Tuck webinar is a full hour conversation about how and why to pay attention to pelvic positioning in Barre and Pilates. If you’re an instructor or even a dedicated student, this deep dive will change the way you move. It’s now available for purchase!

4. Free Classes All April Long!

I want to celebrate spring and movement , so I’ve selected one class each week in April to be totally free for EVERYONE!

No sign-up fees, no strings attached—just come move with me and experience how enjoyable working out from home can be. Whether you’re a Barre fanatic, Pilates lover, or just looking to try something new, now’s the time.

One More Thing: Stay Connected!

My marketing emails have gotten a refresh , and to make sure you keep receiving updates, free classes, and special offers , please go to the bottom of the homepage to sign up.

See You Soon!

Whether online or back in New England, I can’t wait to reconnect. Until then, stand tall, move well, and enjoy the sunsets wherever you are!

xo,
Leslie