‘I Believe My Life Is My Message’

Patty Ivey
Co-Founder & Owner, Down Dog Yoga
1229 34th St NW

Patty Ivey didn’t find yoga. Yoga found her.

An avid marathon runner and biker, Patty was suddenly faced with a knee injury that would require surgery and possibly months of rehabilitation. She hated yoga, but reluctantly gave in to her doctor’s recommendation to take a class—willing to do whatever it took to get back to running.

Patty signed up for a class with Cathy Cox, a popular DC yoga teacher. The ice-cold room was packed 60-deep with faithful attendees, but she couldn’t understand the appeal.

Still, something made her stick around.

‘I liked Cathy, and as we started spending a little time together, she kept talking about this guy Baron Baptiste, a well know master teacher, and a hot room with 100 people sweating everywhere. I thought it sounded awful.’

Cathy was eager to open her own yoga studio, and asked Patty to be her business partner – drawing on her past experience as the owner of several boutique bakeries, followed by a massage therapy business.

‘I said, ‘No, I don’t like yoga.’ Unless I’m passionate about something, I’m not going to do it.’

Not backing down, Cathy suggested they take a trip to Cambridge, Massachusetts, where Baron Baptiste opened his well-known studio, the Baptiste Power Yoga Institute. He no longer taught there, but Cathy wanted Patty to get an idea of what it would be like.

That December, Patty and Cathy trudged through the Cambridge snow and into Baron’s studio lobby, immediately hit by the smell of burning incense.

‘It just had this vibe. You knew something was going on there, but didn’t know what it was. It was an energy of excitement. There was a line out the door to get in, and once we were in this room with 90 other people, all of a sudden the door popped open and Baron walked in to guest teach. It was two hours of the best insanity ever, with sweat pouring everywhere. I had no idea what I was doing, but at the end of that class, I knew my life was about to change forever, and I had no idea why.’

Four months later, in the spring of 2003, Patty and Cathy opened Down Dog Yoga on Potomac Street.

‘I still didn’t quite get it, but I thought I’d just run the business part. I had no idea that what it meant to be on a yoga journey. I was not a yoga practitioner. Cathy was the yogi.’

But less than six months after opening, Cathy confessed she hated owning a business, moved to California, and left Patty with Down Dog Yoga.

‘I called Baron and told him what happened. I said I have no idea what I’m doing, I don’t even teach yoga. Baron said, ‘The community will surround you, and we will support you in however you need us.’’

Most studio owners practice for years before opening their own space. Patty was doing the reverse, and struggled through a public-facing yoga journey.

‘People can be very unforgiving. I said and did a number of things wrong, and I didn’t know anything about the principles of yoga, or what that looked like as a lifestyle.’

At the time, Down Dog Yoga was the only hot power studio in DC—a handful of other yoga studios sprinkled throughout the city. Nobody knew what hot power was, or who Baron was — five people showing up for class on a good day. Then the switch flipped.

‘Word started to spread. We had a fun name and logo, and became known for very edgy, urban yoga. All of a sudden there were lines out of the door and people pushing and shoving trying to get in. It was crazy. We started winning awards like ‘Best Little Hidden Gem’ and celebrities like Russell Crowe and Russell Simmons were showing up when they were in town. The timing was everything. We were the first one out of the gate.’

Patty eventually learned the art of teaching, but she found her true passion and skill as a creative and visionary. Under her guidance, Down Dog Yoga became the lead studio in the city. No one made a move until they did; competitors frequenting their classes in attempt to figure out the formula.

‘They thought, ‘Oh, she puts tape on the floor and turns the heat up’—but it wasn’t that. It’s a secret sauce.’

The studio had taken off, but Patty’s personal yoga journey was slower going. She’d come to appreciate the practice as a demanding physical exercise, not immediately recognizing the deeper mental effect it was already having.

One day, her perspective changed.

‘I had an eating disorder, and I was always about faster, harder, burn calories, stay thin—that sort of thing. I suddenly realized I wasn’t thinking about that anymore. I wasn’t looking in the mirror anymore thinking I had to lose five pounds, or that if I just changed my hair, or if I just did this. I started to notice that kind of stuff.’

With an evolving outlook, Patty opened a second studio in Bethesda, followed by a third in Virginia. She brought on a business partner to help with expansion, but she didn’t pan out. When Patty cut ties, the woman sued—dragging her through the court system for over three years.

‘It was brutal, but that’s when I really got two things. The first was the power of community, because I can’t even tell you how this community stood for me. I crawled onto my mat every day just to have a place to lay my head and feel safe. That’s when everything in a very big way shifted for me, and I never looked back.’

Growing up on Long Island, Patty had always looked forward. Her father spent his childhood on a farm in Wisconsin; her mother, born and raised during World World II. Together, they were just trying to just survive. By example, Patty had no real career aspirations. She dropped out of college after a few semesters, and was married by 21.

‘I was a daydreamer, and I thought I’d have kids and the white picket fence, but that wasn’t my journey. My journey was always toward something bigger. I’ve often been referred to as a marching spirit—always moving toward something no one else can see. I see possibility. I love to put on my rose-colored glasses and say, ‘Let’s go!’’

Patty admits she no longer enjoys running the business, seeing herself as more of a visionary and creative spirit than anything else. Through a daily yoga practice, and some bumps in the road along the way, she’s become clear about who she is and what matters most.

A different woman than the one who opened Down Dog Yoga in 2003, Patty is more committed than ever to changing the world, not marketing her classes. Her teaching style has followed suit, drawing upon a higher purpose.

‘My classes are absolutely challenging, but for me, it’s all about the shared message now. Sharing with others what is possible, self-empowerment, and new choice. I am passionate about personal growth, for myself and others.

‘I still have the busiest class on the schedule, and it’s no doubt hard, but I teach from a different place. I have students who love to remind me how I used to yell at people, which is true. That’s a really good feeling to look back and not even recognize who I was. To be able to model for people what the yoga can do, that’s what’s on offer. I can speak from such a truth of what’s possible if you show up and do the work.’

Today, Patty considers herself a transformational leader who stands for possibility. She just happens to be standing inside of a yoga classroom while moving people through poses. The workout is secondary; her students are there for the greater message.

Years after they’ve come through her Georgetown studio – now located on 34th St NW – many send Patty letters and emails, sharing their own personal struggles that she unknowingly helped them overcome.

‘Some were going through divorce, others, personal tragedy. I see a lot of struggle with depression and anxiety. Things I would never had known unless shared. I hear from a lot of the young college kids, who were recovering addicts while in school. The Down Dog community became their safe space. You never know how something you say can open people up. But I’m not the one changing their life; it’s really up to them.’

That sense of agency over one’s life is the thread that continues to pull Patty forward. Still that ever-marching spirit, she and her husband, Scott, recently relocated to a waterfront house on Massachusetts’ Plum Island—a dream she’s been manifesting for years.

Patty says she’ll return to Down Dog Yoga monthly for master classes, workshops, and training, while handing over the business end to her director of operations. She’s also busy writing a book, and interested in public speaking—stepping into the next phase of her journey toward personal leadership and fulfillment.

‘You will never know what is possible unless you take that first step that gets you to the other side.’