The Manual I wish I had when I started teaching
The Manual I Wish I Had When I Started Teaching Pilates

How decades of training, thousands of hours of teaching, and three full teacher trainings shaped one clear, usable guide
When I first started teaching Pilates, the idea of a “manual” meant something very different than it does today.
There weren’t beautifully designed PDFs, online dashboards, color-coded charts, or hyper-organized lesson plans. There was Joseph Pilates’ book. There were a few black-and-white diagrams. There were photocopies of photocopies. And mostly, there was the work itself—taught body to body, teacher to student, through repetition, correction, and time.
I learned Pilates the way many of my generation did: through apprenticeship. Through being in the room. Through hands-on teaching. Through trial and error. Through bodies that didn’t always respond the way the textbook said they would.
Over the decades that followed, I collected certifications:
STOTT Pilates. Pilates Academy International. Pilates Method Alliance.
Each of them added layers of understanding. Each had their own manuals, their own voice, their own way of explaining the same movement.
And I kept every single one.
Not because I wanted a library of logos—but because I wanted to understand what stayed consistent and what changed. Where the through-line was. Where interpretation entered. Where teachers got confused. Where students got overwhelmed.
And eventually, after teaching Pilates in New York City, across Europe, and running a studio in Portland, Maine for seventeen years, I realized something very simple:
Most Pilates manuals either give you too little… or far too much.
And almost nothing in between.
The Two Extremes of Pilates Education
If you’ve spent any time in Pilates education, you already know this divide.
On one end, there is Joseph Pilates’ original book—Return to Life Through Contrology.
It is elegant. It is visionary. It is foundational.
It is also not enough to teach from.
It gives you the exercises.
It gives you the philosophy.
It gives you almost no scaffolding for teaching real people in real bodies.
On the other end of the spectrum, there are modern anatomy-driven manuals—like Rael Isacowitz’s Pilates Anatomy.
It is brilliant.
It is thorough.
It is deeply respected for a reason.
And it can absolutely overwhelm someone who is brand new.
There are so many muscles.
So many joint actions.
So many variables.
So much information before someone even knows how to cue a hundred or teach a roll-up safely.
Over the years, I watched new teachers struggle—not because they weren’t capable, but because they were drowning in information without structure.
They didn’t know what mattered first.
They didn’t know how to progress someone.
They didn’t know how to teach Pilates as a method instead of a collection of exercises.
That is the gap my Mat Pilates Manual was designed to fill.
Why I Didn’t Write My Pilates Manual Like I Wrote My Barre Manual
When I created my barre manual, I built it from scratch.
Not because I wanted to—but because when I learned barre, there was no manual.
There was no standardized curriculum.
No unified language.
No clear progression.
So I built one based on what worked.
Pilates is different.
Pilates has history.
Pilates has lineage.
Pilates has documentation.
Pilates has hundreds of teachers who came before me.
Writing a Pilates manual isn’t about reinventing the wheel.
It’s about organizing the wheel so someone else can actually drive.
That meant I didn’t sit down and just write from memory. I went back through everything.
My STOTT materials.
My PAI materials.
My PMA standards.
The continuing education manuals I’ve accumulated for decades.
I looked at where they aligned.
I looked at where they contradicted.
I looked at where teachers most often got stuck.
And then I asked one guiding question:
What does someone need to understand Pilates clearly, without being overwhelmed or under-informed?
That question shaped every page.
A Manual Designed for How Teachers Actually Learn
One of the biggest problems in teacher education is that most manuals are written as if teachers don’t have bodies.
They are written as reference books—not as learning tools.
But real teachers don’t sit with a manual open while they teach. They internalize it. They move with it. They feel it.
So my manual was designed to do three things:
- Give you clean understanding
- Show you what to look for in real bodies
- Support actual teaching, not just theory
That’s why there are pictures.
That’s why there is progression.
That’s why each exercise builds on the one before it.
You don’t just learn what The Hundred is.
You learn how someone arrives at it.
You learn how to regress it.
You learn how to see when someone isn’t ready.
Because Pilates isn’t about performing exercises—it’s about teaching movement.
Why It Took Three Full Teacher Trainings to Finish
I didn’t release this manual after writing it once.
I taught from it.
I revised it.
I taught from it again.
I listened to where teachers got confused.
I saw where pages were missing clarity.
I noticed what they referenced most.
And then I rewrote it.
Three full teacher trainings later, I finally felt like it was complete.
Not perfect—but true.
True to how Pilates actually unfolds in the body.
True to what new teachers actually need.
True to the space between classical roots and contemporary application.
That time matters.
You can feel when a manual has been written once.
And you can feel when one has been lived with.
Who This Manual Is For
This manual is not for someone who wants a coffee-table Pilates book.
It is for:
• New teachers who want structure without overwhelm
• Experienced teachers who want clarity without dogma
• Movement professionals who want to understand Pilates without getting lost in anatomy charts
• Barre, yoga, and fitness instructors crossing into Pilates
It is for people who want to teach well—not just pass a test.
Why I Stand Behind It
I’ve spent decades in rooms where Pilates was taught beautifully… and rooms where it wasn’t.
I’ve seen how much damage confusion can do.
And I’ve seen how much confidence clarity creates.
This manual doesn’t try to be everything.
It doesn’t compete with Joseph Pilates.
It doesn’t replace Rael Isacowitz.
It bridges the space between them.
It gives you enough to teach with intelligence and safety.
And enough simplicity to actually apply it.
That balance is what took the longest to get right.
And that’s why, finally, I’m proud to say:
This is the manual I wish I had when I started.
If you’re ready to learn Pilates in a way that is grounded, thoughtful, and designed for real teaching, this manual is here for you.














































































































