Gawker's longtime disdain for SoulCycle's fiendish intensity, and all the evil that stationary biking harbors, may finally be coming to a triumphant end. A new fitness trend among urbane New Yorkers with golden-lined pockets, as the NY Times reports, is acting like you are a wittle, wittle baby. Classes have popped up among the pricier zip codes of Manhattan and Brooklyn to encourage the health-conscious to have a little juvenile fun while they sweat, using the long-dormant concept of "recess" as their marketing pillar.

Reporter Julia Lawlor explored the Freudian travails of exercise classes geared toward fully grown adults with mirthful inner beings at the Upper West Side's Reebok Sports Club/NY. Predictably, she was disappointed at the lack of hide-and-seek:

We formed a big circle, and she asked us to call out our names and our favorite childhood games: Hopscotch, dodge ball, volleyball, kickball and hide-and-seek were mentioned, though to what end, I'm not sure. (We never got around to playing any of them.)

The class began to lighten up—and intensify—when participants were asked to imitate different animals.

For the "gorilla," we moved across the floor in a squat, reaching with both hands to the side to touch the floor, then shuffling our feet laterally to keep up with our hands. For the "inchworm," we bent forward with legs straight, then walked our hands out until we were in plank position. Once there, keeping our legs straight, we walked our feet up to our hands again, and advanced — oh so slowly — across the floor. For the "crabwalk," we sat with bent knees with our palms behind us on the floor, then raised our hips and crawled sideways.

Despite how tantalizingly fun this all sounds, Lawlor was unimpressed. In a Lord of the Flies-esque twist, she spitefully exposes her "help-up" partner as the weaker playground mate:

Ms. Karole made me feel better by confessing that she couldn't do a wheelbarrow push-up, either.

The class ends with Lawlor expressing her renewed "energy" and Karole's desire for a Jacuzzi and an Advil. The cost for Benjamin Buttoning yourself into Adonis shape starts at $35, and peaks at $50. But shilling out the dough might be worth it: the charge for visiting a NYC playground unaccompanied by a minor can come with a $1,000 fine, or 90 days in jail.

When reached for comment, one unnamed third-grader threw back a snifter of Evan Williams, saying he was "too busy with filing my taxes for this cockamamie bullshit."

[Image via Shuttershock]