Pilates Technique Thursday: What Do We Mean When We Say “Advanced”?

Impressive flexibility and control, but advanced teaching asks for more than extreme movement.

I was contacted by a studio recently asking me to come in and work with their teaching team. This sort of in house training is happening more and more, which I quietly welcome. It usually means a studio wants consistency, shared language, and fewer moments where one teacher feels like a completely different brand from the next. I replied with a thank you and a simple question. What are you hoping the training will help with?

The reply came back quickly. "All our teachers are advanced"

I paused. Not because I doubted them, but because the word advanced does a lot of work while saying almost nothing. It sounds confident. It sounds reassuring. It also leaves far too much open to interpretation. Advanced how? Advanced at what?

When someone uses that word, my brain starts filling in the gaps. I try to work out which version they mean. For some studios, advanced refers to how the teacher looks. Strong body. Flexible spine. Clean lines. Beautiful demonstrations. Social media friendly. Impressive to watch. This tells me they move well. It tells me nothing about how they teach. A good body is not the same job as a good teacher.

In other cases, advanced becomes shorthand for experience. Years in the studio. Lots of hours taught. Comfort standing in front of a room. Comfort talking. Comfort filling silence. Time helps, but time alone does not sharpen skill. Plenty of teachers repeat the same year again and again and call it experience. Familiarity is not the same as progress.

At other times, the word leans toward cueing. Fewer words. Better timing. Language that lands rather than floats past the client. This is where teaching starts to appear. Cueing is not decoration. Cueing changes bodies. You hear it when it works. You see it when it works.

There are also moments when advanced points to problem solving. Seeing what is in front of you rather than clinging to the plan. Adjusting without panic. Keeping the method intact while meeting the body on the mat or the reformer. This is where teaching stops being performative and starts being useful.

Occasionally, advanced refers to knowledge. Anatomy. Springs. Load. Understanding why an exercise exists rather than repeating it out of habit. Knowledge matters, but it only counts when it shapes your choices in the room.

This is where Pilates gets muddled. There are two ladders running side by side. One belongs to fitness. The other belongs to the method. The fitness ladder chases intensity, sweat, burn, and impressive shapes. The method ladder chases control, organisation, timing, breath, and efficiency. People often climb high on one ladder and assume they have climbed both.

I meet strong people all the time. Fit. Capable. Determined. Then I ask them to organise pelvis, ribs, and shoulders without gripping, and everything slows down. This is normal. It is also why the phrase “I only teach advanced clients” has always amused me. You would have a quiet diary if advanced meant advanced in the method.

Years ago someone said exactly that to me, proudly. They only taught advanced clients. When I asked why, the answer circled strength and ability. Control and awareness never entered the conversation. Physically fit clients are common. Disconnected fit clients are everywhere.

So what do I mean when I talk about an advanced teacher? An advanced teacher does not chase difficulty. They chase quality. They teach basic work and it changes people. Posture shifts. Breathing settles. Movement looks quieter and stronger at the same time. They walk into a session with a plan, watch what unfolds, and adjust without fuss. They explain why something matters. They keep the work honest.

They also stay curious. This is the part many people lose once they label themselves advanced. The more you learn, the more details you notice. You hear your own cueing differently. You spot habits you missed before. The word advanced starts to feel less comfortable, and that discomfort keeps you sharp.

So when someone tells you they are an advanced teacher, notice what picture appears in your mind. A strong body. Years in the studio. Calm authority. Clear communication. Safe progress. Your answer matters. It shows what you value, and it quietly points toward what you choose to work on next.

Advanced is not a badge. It is a responsibility.