You were taught what to do.
Not how to decide.

Sent 14 October 2026 · 3,885 instructors

“I Can’t Feel It.” Does That Mean the Exercise Isn’t Working?

One of the most common things you’ll hear as a Pilates instructor is a client telling you they can’t feel an exercise working.

Usually, it happens halfway through a series when everyone else is complaining about their glutes burning and one person looks at you and says, “I don’t really feel this anywhere.”

And I think our immediate instinct as instructors is to make the exercise harder.

Add a pulse, increase the spring resistance, change their position, give them another cue or keep them in the exercise until they finally feel something.

Because if they can’t feel it, surely we need to change something?

Not necessarily.

This is something I really want instructors to understand because there is a difference between an exercise creating a useful training stimulus and an exercise creating a particular sensation.

They’re not always the same thing.

When a client tells me they can’t feel an exercise, I’m interested in what they actually mean by that. Are they saying the exercise feels too easy? Are they struggling to identify which muscles are working? Are they expecting a burning sensation because that’s what they’ve experienced in other classes? Or are they genuinely not being challenged by the load we’ve selected?

Those are four very different situations, and they don’t all require the same response.

Take a standing squat, for example.

If someone is performing a well controlled squat with an appropriate external load, their quadriceps and glutes are contributing to the movement whether or not they’re experiencing that familiar burning sensation.

The absence of a burn doesn’t mean those muscles have suddenly stopped working.

In fact, some of the exercises we use for strength development won’t necessarily produce the same localised fatigue that clients associate with Pilates.

A relatively heavy set of squats for six repetitions can create a substantial mechanical loading demand without producing the same sensation as thirty small pulses at the bottom of a squat.

Both can have a place in a programme, but they’re creating different demands.

This is why I get a little concerned when instructors start measuring the success of an exercise by how much their clients are shaking or complaining.

I’ve heard instructors say things like, “If you’re not shaking, you’re not working hard enough,” or “You should really be feeling this in your glutes by now.”

I understand the intention. We want clients to feel challenged, and sometimes drawing their attention to the muscles involved can be useful.

But shaking isn’t a reliable measure of exercise quality, and neither is the burning sensation that comes with certain types of muscular fatigue.

You can have a client working incredibly hard without either of those things happening.

You can also have someone shaking because they’re struggling with the balance or coordination demands of an exercise rather than because we’ve created a particularly effective strength stimulus.

As a physiotherapist, I’m much more interested in whether the exercise is appropriately challenging the capacity we’re trying to develop.

If we’re training strength, I want to consider the load, repetitions, range of motion, effort and how the client is responding across the set.

If we’re working on balance, I want to know whether the task is sufficiently challenging their ability to maintain or recover stability.

If we’re developing muscular endurance, I might be more interested in how they tolerate repeated contractions and whether they can maintain the required movement as fatigue develops.

The sensation the client experiences can give us useful information, but it shouldn’t be the only thing guiding our decisions.

So what should you actually do when someone says they can’t feel an exercise?

I would start by asking a couple of questions rather than immediately changing everything.

“Does it feel too easy, or are you just not feeling it in the muscle you expected?”

You might be surprised by how often a client tells you the exercise is actually quite challenging, but they thought they were supposed to feel it somewhere specific.

That’s a really good opportunity to educate them.

You can explain that several muscle groups contribute to most movements and that they don’t necessarily need to experience a localised burning sensation for the exercise to be beneficial.

If the exercise genuinely feels too easy, then absolutely, look at how you could increase the challenge. Depending on the movement and the goal, that might involve adjusting the resistance, range, repetitions, tempo or another relevant variable.

But make that decision because the current exercise isn’t providing the stimulus you’re looking for, rather than simply because the client hasn’t started shaking yet.

I also think we need to be careful about constantly asking clients where they feel every exercise.

There are times when this is helpful, particularly when we’re trying to understand their experience of a movement or troubleshoot a setup. But if every exercise comes with the expectation that they should feel one particular muscle, we can unintentionally teach clients that an exercise isn’t worthwhile unless they experience that sensation.

And that’s not a particularly useful way to think about training.

Something I would encourage you to try this week is changing the questions you ask your clients.

Instead of always asking, “Can you feel your glutes?” try asking, “How challenging does that resistance feel?”

Instead of telling someone they should be shaking, ask whether they feel they could comfortably complete another ten repetitions or whether the final few are requiring considerably more effort.

If you’re working toward a strength goal, that information may be much more useful for deciding whether the load needs to change.

And remember that not every exercise needs to be taken to complete fatigue either. The appropriate level of effort depends on what you’re trying to achieve, the client’s capacity and where that exercise sits within the session.

I think one of the most valuable things we can do as instructors is help clients understand that exercise is about more than chasing a feeling.

We want them to recognise when something is challenging, understand why we’ve selected a particular exercise and develop confidence in progressing their training.

So the next time someone tells you they can’t feel an exercise, don’t automatically assume you’ve done something wrong.

Ask a few more questions first.

You might need to change the load, adjust the exercise or improve the setup. But you might also have an opportunity to teach that client something about how their body works.

And sometimes that little bit of education is just as valuable as the exercise itself.

Kira-Leigh Rule
Physiotherapist | Clinical Pilates Instructor | Educator
Body Form® Education

Sent 22 April 2026 · 2,029 instructors

What Most Instructors Get Wrong With Back Pain

There is a moment most instructors know well. A client arrives and mentions, almost in passing, that their lower back has been bothering them this week. Maybe they slept awkwardly, maybe it has been building for a few days. They are not in acute distress. They still want to do the class.

And in that moment, a particular kind of uncertainty sets in.

What do you take out? What do you keep? Do you modify the whole class for them, or just certain exercises? And how do you do that without drawing everyone else's attention to it, or losing your class structure entirely?

This scenario plays out constantly across Pilates studios, and the decisions made in that moment matter far more than most instructors realise.

The most common mistake I see when instructors modify for back pain is not what they remove from the programme. It is the reasoning behind what they remove, and more importantly, what they replace it with.

When an instructor has not had specific education around back pain and spinal loading, the default response is avoidance. The client mentions their back, and a long list of exercises suddenly gets mentally crossed off the programme. Flexion goes. Rotation goes. Anything that feels vaguely risky disappears. The client ends up doing a fraction of the class while everyone else moves forward.

This is not modification. This is reactive exclusion, and it often does more harm than good in the long run.

The problem is that instructors are operating from a framework rooted in fear rather than a clinical one. Without understanding why back pain behaves the way it does, why certain movements aggravate and others do not, it is almost impossible to make confident, reasoned decisions in real time.

Back pain is one of the most researched areas in physiotherapy, and there are several things we know with a high degree of confidence.

Movement, in most cases, is therapeutic. Avoidance of movement, especially repeated and habitual avoidance, tends to reinforce pain sensitivity and reduce tissue capacity over time. This does not mean pushing through acute pain or ignoring warning signs. It means that systematically removing a client from meaningful movement on the basis of a vague symptom report is not the conservative, safe approach it might feel like.

What actually matters is load management. How much load is being placed on the spine, and is that load appropriate for where this person is right now? Tempo, range of motion, spring tension on the reformer, and whether someone is actively controlling through a range or simply moving through it passively; these variables change the demand on the back far more than the exercise name does.

A well set up footwork series can be entirely appropriate for someone with back pain. A poorly set up spine stretch can aggravate it. The exercise label is not the clinical decision. The execution is.

In a reformer class, this might look like keeping a client in footwork while the rest of the class moves to a loaded long box series. You adjust their spring tension slightly, cue them toward posterior pelvic tilt awareness, and keep them moving with the class rhythm rather than sitting out. You have made a clinical decision about load without stopping the class to explain it.

In a mat class, it might mean cueing a supine position with knees bent during a segment that uses load through lumbar flexion, then returning them to the full programme once you have moved past that block. The client stays in the class, continues to participate, and you have reduced the load appropriately without removing them from the experience entirely.

The difference between this approach and reactive exclusion is education. When you understand how tissue behaves, how pain sensitisation works, and how to adjust load rather than avoid movement, these decisions become faster and more confident.

Instructors who struggle most with back pain clients are almost always instructors who have not had specific education in this area. That is not a criticism. Initial Pilates certification does not generally go into the clinical detail required to manage these presentations confidently. That gap is real, and it shows up in class every week.

The instructors I see grow most in this profession are the ones who stop trying to navigate these moments purely on intuition and start building an actual framework. When you have clinical reasoning to stand on, the decision-making becomes clearer. You are no longer hoping you are doing the right thing. You know why you are making the choice you are making.

That shift matters not just for the client in front of you. It matters for your confidence in every class you teach from that point forward.

Back pain is not going to stop showing up in your classes. It is arguably the most common complaint your clients will ever mention. Building a grounded understanding of how to work with it, rather than around it, is one of the most practical investments you can make in your teaching. If you have ever felt unsure in these moments, that is worth paying attention to. Further education in injury modification exists precisely for this reason, and it is the kind of knowledge that changes how you teach from the ground up.

Kira-Leigh Rule
Physiotherapist | Clinical Pilates Instructor | Educator
Body Form® Education

Sent 5 May 2026 · 2,156 instructors

What Pilates Gets Wrong About Building Strength

You have just finished teaching a reformer class. Your clients are flushed, a few of them are shaking slightly in their legs, and one says she really felt her glutes today. Another mentions her arms are burning after the plank series. You leave the session feeling like you delivered something genuinely challenging. And in many ways, you did.

But here is a question worth sitting with: did your clients get stronger today, or did they just get tired?

That distinction matters more than most instructors are taught to consider.

There is a persistent belief in the Pilates world that effort equals strength. If a client is shaking, burning, or breathing hard, the session must be working. And while physical demand is not unimportant, fatigue is not the same as a strength stimulus. These are fundamentally different physiological responses, and conflating them leads to programming decisions that look productive but do not build capacity over time.

Strength, in the way exercise science understands it, requires the muscle to be loaded at a level that challenges its current capacity and then progressively challenged beyond that over time. This is the principle of progressive overload. Without it, the body adapts to what is asked of it very quickly and then plateaus. That plateau is exactly where a lot of Pilates clients sit for months or even years, doing the same level of work, feeling the same level of effort, and not actually changing in any meaningful functional sense.

The challenge in Pilates is that the equipment and the style of teaching can mask this. A long series of small movements on the reformer can feel very intense, particularly in the stabilising muscles and the endurance fibres. There is genuine work happening. But intensity of sensation is not the same as mechanical load, and it is mechanical load, specifically the tension placed through a muscle near or at its working capacity, that drives genuine strength adaptation.

From a physiotherapy standpoint, this is not just an academic concern. Clients who are not building actual strength are not building the joint resilience, bone density stimulus, or functional capacity that protects them as they age. For a client in her mid fifties attending reformer three times a week, the question is not just whether she feels the session. It is whether those sessions are creating any real physiological change. Often the honest answer is: not as much as they could be.

For instructors, this shows up practically in consistent ways across mat and reformer teaching. Spring selection is one of the first places it becomes visible. Many instructors default to lighter springs to maintain movement quality, which is understandable, but lighter loads combined with high repetitions will train endurance rather than strength. There is a place for that, but it should be intentional rather than the default. Repetition schemes are another area worth examining. If a client can complete twenty repetitions of an exercise without significant effort in the final few reps, the challenge is not sufficient to drive strength adaptation. Reducing reps, increasing load, and slowing the tempo are all ways to shift the stimulus without redesigning the entire class. And underlying all of this is the matter of progression, not variety for the sake of keeping things interesting, but deliberate layering of challenge across weeks and months.

None of this means abandoning what makes Pilates effective. Alignment, control, and breath remain foundational. What changes is how those principles are applied within a framework that actually asks more of the muscular system over time.

This is an area where many instructors feel genuinely uncertain, and that uncertainty is understandable. Initial training programmes cover exercises thoroughly, but the science of adaptation and programming is often very thin on the ground. That gap shows up in classes where the level stays the same for months because the instructor is unsure when or how to progress, or where variation is mistaken for meaningful progression.

Building a clearer understanding of strength science alongside Pilates principles changes not just how you programme, but how you think about what you are actually doing in each session and why it matters. That kind of clarity makes you a more confident and more effective practitioner, regardless of the population you work with. For those wanting to develop this area further, investing in structured education that bridges strength training principles with Pilates application is one of the most practical steps you can take for your teaching and your career.

Kira-Leigh Rule
Physiotherapist | Clinical Pilates Instructor | Educator
Body Form® Education

Sent 19 August 2026 · 3,162 instructors

A Lighter Spring Isn’t Automatically Harder

There is one phrase I hear in Reformer classes all the time that I really wish we would stop using:

“If you want the advanced option, go lighter.”

Because… advanced for what?

I completely understand where it comes from. There are absolutely exercises where reducing the spring support increases the stability or control demand, and therefore a lighter spring can make the exercise significantly more challenging.

But somewhere along the way we’ve turned that into a blanket rule that lighter springs = harder and heavier springs = easier.

That’s simply not how the Reformer works.

The spring isn’t a difficulty setting. It’s a variable that changes the forces involved in the exercise, and what happens when you change it depends entirely on the position of the body, the direction the carriage is travelling and what you’re actually trying to achieve.

Think about footwork.

If I add more spring resistance and ask someone to press the carriage away, I’ve increased the external resistance their lower limbs need to overcome. Assuming everything else stays relatively similar, that can create a greater strength demand.

So telling that client the lighter option is “advanced” doesn’t really make sense if my goal is to load their legs.

Now put the same person into an exercise where the springs are helping control or support the carriage and the situation can be completely different. Reducing spring tension may suddenly require much more stability and control.

Same Reformer.

Same springs.

Completely different purpose.

This is why I think instructors need to move away from memorising spring settings as:

• Beginner
• Intermediate
• Advanced

…and start understanding what the spring is actually doing in that particular exercise.

Whenever you’re choosing springs, there are a few questions worth asking yourself. Is the spring primarily creating resistance here, or is it providing assistance? What happens to the client when I add another spring? Which muscles now have to produce more force? Does reducing the spring genuinely progress the exercise, or does it simply make the carriage less stable? And most importantly, does that change actually match what I’m trying to train?

That last question is the one that matters.

Because making something less stable doesn’t automatically make it a better progression.

I could give a client an incredibly light spring, put them in a complicated position and make the exercise feel ridiculously difficult. That doesn’t necessarily mean I’ve created a useful stimulus. I may have just made it harder for them to control the equipment.

On the other hand, giving a strong client a heavier spring and asking them to move slowly through a well controlled range might look considerably less exciting, but it could be exactly the loading stimulus they need.

This is also why two clients doing the exact same exercise may appropriately be on completely different springs.

The stronger client doesn’t always need the “advanced” spring.

The beginner doesn’t always need the “easy” spring.

They need the spring that matches the purpose of the exercise and their current capacity.

And honestly, once you understand springs this way, programming on the Reformer becomes SO much more interesting because you’re no longer just remembering numbers or colours from your training.

You’re making decisions.

If I want more strength demand, what do I change?

If I want more control, what do I change?

If this client is compensating, is the spring actually contributing to it?

Could changing the load allow them to find the movement I’m trying to teach before I start throwing another five cues at them?

That’s clinical reasoning, and it’s a skill I think every Reformer instructor should develop.

So next time you’re about to say, “Go lighter if you want more of a challenge,” stop for a second and ask yourself what that lighter spring is actually changing.

Maybe it IS the appropriate progression.

Maybe adding resistance would be.

Maybe the springs don’t need changing at all.

The important part is that you know why you’ve chosen them.

Because spring settings shouldn’t be something we memorise.

They should be something we understand.

Kira-Leigh Rule
Physiotherapist | Clinical Pilates Instructor | Educator
Body Form® Education

Sent 28 May 2026 · 2,353 instructors

Why Your Clients Cannot Feel Their Core

A client is halfway through an abdominal series on the reformer.

You have cued the pelvic floor.

You have cued the transverse abdominis.

You have reminded them to draw the ribs down and breathe laterally.

And then they look at you and say:

"I still can't feel my core."

Most instructors know this moment well.

And most immediately assume the problem is activation.

The client must not be engaging properly.

They need more cueing.

More focus.

More awareness.

But often, the issue is not that the core is not working.

It is that the client does not understand what they are expecting to feel.

This distinction matters enormously in Pilates teaching.

Many clients arrive with the belief that core activation should feel intense.

They expect shaking, burning, or obvious muscular fatigue similar to what they associate with abdominal training in gym environments.

When they do not experience that sensation, they assume the exercise is ineffective.

Instructors often reinforce this unintentionally by repeatedly asking clients if they can feel their core working, as though sensation itself is the benchmark of success.

From a physiotherapy perspective, the deep stabilising system of the trunk is not designed to produce dramatic sensation.

The role of muscles such as the transverse abdominis, pelvic floor, multifidus, and diaphragm is largely supportive and anticipatory.

These muscles function to create pressure regulation, segmental support, and force transfer through the trunk.

When they are working well, they often feel subtle.

Clients expecting an aggressive abdominal burn may completely miss the quieter sensations associated with genuine trunk control.

This becomes even more complicated because many clients compensate through larger superficial muscles.

They grip through the rectus abdominis.

They brace excessively through the obliques.

They hold tension through the hip flexors or glutes.

The movement feels effortful, but the strategy is inefficient.

The client mistakes tension for stability.

This is one of the most common patterns instructors encounter in both mat and reformer classes.

A client performs tabletop work while visibly gripping through the neck and shoulders.

Another performs bridging while bracing so aggressively through the rib cage that breathing becomes restricted.

Another holds a plank position with maximal abdominal tension but poor pressure control.

From the outside, these clients appear to be working hard.

But hard work and efficient stabilisation are not the same thing.

This is where cueing becomes critical.

The goal is not to create maximal tension.

The goal is to improve coordination.

In many cases, reducing effort actually improves core function.

When clients stop aggressively bracing and begin breathing more naturally, the trunk often organises more effectively.

This is why experienced instructors frequently cue softness rather than force.

"Allow the ribs to soften."

"Breathe into the sides of the rib cage."

"Let the tension out of the shoulders."

"Think of gentle support rather than gripping."

These cues often create better outcomes than repeatedly telling clients to tighten harder.

One of the most important things instructors can teach clients is that stability is not the same as rigidity.

A well functioning core allows movement to occur efficiently.

It does not lock the body down.

In practical terms, this may mean accepting that a client performing leg lowers does not need a perfectly motionless pelvis to be effective.

Small movement variability is normal.

The objective is not absolute stillness.

The objective is appropriate control for the task being performed.

The same applies to breathing.

Many clients unintentionally hold their breath when attempting to stabilise.

But breath holding increases unnecessary tension and often disrupts pressure management throughout the trunk.

When breathing improves, movement quality often improves with it.

This is why Pilates can be so powerful when taught well.

It teaches clients not simply to contract muscles, but to coordinate them.

That coordination transfers into daily life far more effectively than isolated abdominal tension ever will.

The instructors who become highly skilled in this area are usually the ones who stop chasing dramatic activation and start teaching efficient movement strategies instead.

They understand that the best core work often does not look or feel extreme.

It looks controlled.

It looks coordinated.

And over time, it creates bodies that are stronger, more adaptable, and more resilient under load.

Helping clients understand this changes not only how they move, but how they think about movement altogether.

Kira-Leigh Rule
Physiotherapist | Clinical Pilates Instructor | Educator
Body Form® Education

Sent 10 September 2026 · 3,364 instructors

A Modification Doesn't Have to Be a Different Exercise

I think we make modifications WAY more complicated than they need to be.

A client tells an instructor their knee is sore and immediately their brain starts searching through a mental catalogue of "knee friendly exercises."

Someone has back pain? Find a back pain exercise.

Pregnant client? Give them the pregnancy exercise.

Shoulder injury? Better find something completely different for them to do.

I understand why instructors do this, especially when they're newer. Having a list of modifications feels safe because someone has already made the decision for you.

The problem is that bodies aren't that predictable.

Two people can walk into your class with the exact same diagnosis and need completely different things. One client with knee pain might happily tolerate a squat but hate kneeling. Another might kneel without any issue but become symptomatic as soon as you increase their squat depth.

So rather than asking "What's the modification for knee pain?" I want instructors to get much better at asking:

"What specifically does THIS person need me to change?"

That question gives you far more useful information.

Let's say you've programmed a lunge and your client tells you their knee is uncomfortable.

You don't necessarily need to abandon the lunge and send them off to do something completely unrelated while everyone else continues with the class.

First, work out what you can manipulate.

Could you reduce the range?

Change their position?

Increase their support?

Adjust the load?

Slow the movement down?

Change where their weight is distributed?

Does a small change to their setup completely change how the movement feels?

You might try one adjustment and suddenly the client says, "Yep, that's completely fine."

Great.

You've just modified the exercise.

And importantly, you've kept that person involved in the class rather than making them feel like the injured client doing their special exercise in the corner.

Obviously there are times when I WILL change an exercise entirely. If I can't find an appropriate version, if symptoms continue to increase, if the movement isn't suitable for their presentation or if what I'm seeing tells me we shouldn't be pushing it that day, I'll move on.

The point isn't that every exercise needs to be saved.

It's that exercise substitution shouldn't automatically be your first response.

This is one of the reasons I place so much emphasis on understanding movement rather than memorising exercises when I'm teaching instructors.

If you understand what you're trying to achieve, you have options.

If all you've learnt is "for this injury, do these five exercises," you're going to struggle the moment a real human doesn't respond the way your notes said they would.

And real humans are exceptionally good at doing that.

I also think this changes the way we speak to clients.

Instead of immediately saying, "Oh, you have a bad knee, so you can't do this one," you can say, "Let's see if we can find a version that feels good for you."

That is a completely different experience for the person in front of you.

We're not treating their body as fragile. We're not ignoring their symptoms either. We're simply problem solving.

That middle ground is where I think really good movement teaching sits.

So if you're teaching this week and somebody needs a modification, resist the urge to immediately search your brain for another exercise.

Start with the exercise you already have and ask yourself what variable you could change.

Range. Load. Position. Support. Tempo.

See what happens.

The more you practise doing this, the less intimidating injuries and mixed ability classes become because you stop relying on a giant library of predetermined modifications.

You start understanding how to create them yourself.

And THAT is a much more useful skill to take into a room full of real people.

Kira-Leigh Rule
Physiotherapist | Clinical Pilates Instructor | Educator
Body Form® Education

Sent 11 June 2026 · 2,481 instructors

Why Mobility Is Not the Same as Flexibility

A client finishes class and tells you they feel incredibly tight.

They cannot touch their toes.

Their hips feel stiff.

Their shoulders feel restricted.

Naturally, they assume they need more stretching.

Many instructors make the same assumption.

The logic seems straightforward. If something feels tight, it must need to be stretched.

But the human body is rarely that simple.

One of the most misunderstood concepts in Pilates is the difference between mobility and flexibility. The terms are often used interchangeably, but they are not the same thing. Understanding the distinction can completely change the way you assess movement limitations and programme for your clients.

Flexibility refers to the passive length of a muscle or group of tissues.

Mobility refers to the ability to actively control movement through a range of motion.

A client may have excellent flexibility but poor mobility.

Equally, a client may have relatively limited flexibility but possess excellent functional mobility.

This distinction matters because many movement restrictions are not actually flexibility problems.

They are control problems.

From a physiotherapy perspective, the nervous system is constantly assessing whether a movement feels safe.

If the brain perceives a lack of stability, strength, or control within a range, it will often restrict access to that range regardless of how flexible the tissues may be.

This is why some clients can spend years stretching without experiencing meaningful long-term improvements in movement.

The limitation was never tissue length.

The limitation was the body's confidence in controlling that position.

Consider a client who struggles to achieve overhead shoulder range.

Many instructors immediately prescribe stretching for the chest, shoulders, or lats.

Sometimes this is appropriate.

But often the missing piece is strength and control of the scapular stabilisers.

The client may physically possess the range but lack the motor control required to use it effectively.

The same occurs at the hips.

A client may feel tight during a squat and assume their hamstrings are the problem.

In reality, the limitation may stem from poor pelvic control, inadequate glute strength, reduced ankle mobility, or a combination of several factors.

Stretching the hamstrings alone may do very little to improve the overall movement pattern.

This is where Pilates becomes particularly valuable.

At its best, Pilates is not simply flexibility training.

It is controlled mobility training.

Every exercise asks the client to move through a range while maintaining control, awareness, and appropriate load management.

That combination is what creates lasting change.

For example, a leg circle is not merely a hip mobility exercise.

It is a hip mobility exercise combined with pelvic control.

A spine twist is not simply spinal flexibility.

It is spinal mobility combined with trunk stability and rotational control.

The distinction may seem subtle, but it fundamentally changes how you view the exercise.

You stop chasing bigger ranges and start prioritising usable ranges.

This is often where instructors become more effective.

Instead of asking, "How can I make this client more flexible?"

They begin asking, "How can I help this client own this range of motion?"

Those are very different questions.

One focuses on passive movement.

The other focuses on active capability.

The clients who progress most consistently are rarely those with the greatest flexibility.

They are usually the ones who develop the greatest control.

They learn how to generate force in different positions.

They learn how to stabilise while moving.

They develop confidence throughout a range rather than simply reaching the end of it.

This is why some highly flexible clients continue to experience discomfort while others with less flexibility move exceptionally well.

Range alone is not the goal.

Control within that range is.

As instructors, one of the most valuable shifts we can make is moving beyond the assumption that every restriction requires more stretching.

Sometimes the body needs length.

But often it needs strength.

Sometimes it needs mobility.

But often it needs confidence.

Understanding the difference allows us to programme more effectively, cue more accurately, and ultimately deliver better outcomes for our clients.

Because movement is not defined by how far someone can go.

It is defined by how well they can control where they go.

Kira-Leigh Rule
Physiotherapist | Clinical Pilates Instructor | Educator
Body Form® Education

Sent 14 April 2026 · 1,867 instructors

How to Hold Structure in a Mixed Ability Class

You have eight clients in front of you. One finished a course of physiotherapy for a disc bulge three months ago. Another is a competitive cyclist with excellent cardiovascular fitness but limited body awareness. Two are relatively new to Pilates, still learning how to find a neutral spine. And in the middle of the group, someone who has been training for years and quietly expects to be challenged.

This is a normal Wednesday morning class.

What tends to happen in this situation is one of two things. Either the instructor abandons the planned session and starts making it up as they go, pulling out modifications on the fly and trying to keep everyone safe. Or they push through the original plan and hope that the people on the edges of the ability range will figure it out. Neither approach holds the class together, and both point to the same underlying gap: an instructor who has not been trained to design a session that accommodates variation without losing direction.

The problem is not the group. Mixed ability classes are the reality in most Pilates environments. The actual issue is that initial training programmes tend to focus on choreography rather than on the principles that make movement appropriate or inappropriate for a given person. When the choreography does not fit the group, there is nowhere to go. The modifications that instructors have learned are reactive by nature, drawn out in response to a visible problem, rather than built into the session from the start.

This distinction matters because it changes how an instructor thinks about planning.

From a physiotherapy perspective, what determines whether a movement is appropriate for someone is rarely the exercise itself. It is the load, the range, the position, and the tempo in which that movement is performed. A curl up done slowly with a stable pelvis and the cervical spine well supported is a fundamentally different stimulus than the same curl up done quickly with the head pulled forward and the lumbar spine lifting off the mat. They look the same from the back of the room. They are not the same movement.

Understanding this gives an instructor something that a list of modifications never can: a principle to work from. If you understand what a movement is asking the body to do, you can adjust the variables for different people without abandoning what the class is building toward.

In a reformer class, this might look like one client doing single leg bridging with a heel press while another works on a two-footed bridge in neutral, holding for time. A third person may be doing footwork in a limited range, not yet ready for the loading demand of the full bridge variation. All three are working within a posterior chain loading theme. The class has a direction. No one has been managed separately or made to feel like an exception.

What holds this together is the way the instructor communicates. Rather than stopping to explain a modification mid session, the cue carries both options. Something as simple as "stay in this position if it is working for you, or take the next variation when you are ready" communicates the difference clearly without singling anyone out or breaking the flow of the class. This requires thought in the planning stage, but it is not complicated once the principle is clear.

The real shift is moving away from thinking of the plan as a sequence of exercises and toward thinking of it as a set of movement intentions. What is the body being asked to do today? Where should the group be by the end of the session? When that is clear, the individual adjustments become much easier to make, because the goal has not changed, only the path to get there.

Instructors who regularly find themselves thrown by mixed ability groups are usually experiencing one of two things: a limited understanding of how load and positioning affect outcome, or an overreliance on the specific exercise as the primary unit of measure. Both are understandable given how most foundational training is structured. Both are correctable. But correction requires more than a wider bank of variations. It requires understanding why one approach works and another does not.

A Pilates career built on adaptability comes from building that understanding progressively. The instructor who can connect their choices to a clinical rationale will always be more confident in a mixed group than one who is working from a memorised sequence.

That kind of reasoning does not always arrive fully formed after initial training. It develops over time, with experience and continued learning. Deepening your understanding of movement, load management, and individual presentation is one of the most practical investments you can make in your teaching.

Kira-Leigh Rule
Physiotherapist | Clinical Pilates Instructor | Educator
Body Form® Education