No, you cannot do party tricks in the park

72 and sunny describes this past Saturday in Manhattan perfectly.  Sundresses and popsicles abound, not a soul wasted the day. While at the river working on our base tans, my roommate pointed out an interesting side show nearby.  Looking up from my book, I found a Cirque du Soleil-esque performance being put on by two girls in yoga clothes.  This is usually behavior saved for a parent and child playing airplane, not grown women wondering how flexible they can prove to be in public.  Save it for pilates class, ladies; a broken neck would really put a damper on such a nice day.

No, you cannot interrupt my precious work out

My friend Kathryn is a semi-professional Yogi and lately has been telling me about the unnecessary behavior of her fellow classmates.  Smacking gum crassly in a serene studio, belching loudly in the middle of a downward dog, organic moans during a full wheel pose- all forbidden interferences while attempting to become one with your inner self.  I take a group class here or there and have found not only excess noise as a disruption, but also the general population's inability to follow a beat.  Growing up as a dancer, I am versed in the practice of a congregation of individuals collectively moving as one.  I completely understand that not everyone has had formal training nor is going to a class for any other reason than good ol' fun exercise.  Though this is the case, I would like to consider asking all gyms to require at least partial rhythm as a prerequisite to entering the room's threshold.

Nothing ruins a workout more than when class has begun, there's a good flow of energy in the room, and WHAM!  there's that random person who walks in 10 minutes late, not only looking surprised that there's no where left to stand, but also creating a ruckus while attempting to collect a mat, body bar, and various free weights to participate in the proceedings.  This person can never find a space on the perimeter of the room so they meander their way into the middle, (somewhere closer to you, nonetheless), laying their mat down inches from where valuable floor territory has already been claimed.  20 minutes into the 45 minute class they are finally ready to synchronize with the others; though they try their darnedest to step onto their right, hop on their left, and spin around quickly, they remain 4 counts behind the music for the remainder of the course.  No sooner does the latecomer get on track when you notice the flailer that has been in the front corner of the room all along.  This person is legitimately making up their own moves with no regard for the instructor's direction or the downbeat of the music.  You then realize you were thankful for the distraction of the latecomer; personally, I'd much rather watch somebody catch up in the race with some sort of uniformity than flutter aimlessly until they reach the finish line.  Sorry flailer, if I was the one checking rhythm and comprehension skills at the door, you would have found yourself on a stationary bike far away from the group exercise room.