WHEN THE WEEKEND HITS, some people find relaxation in a seaweed wrap or mud bath. Some find solace in the creamy froth of a tall chai latte, or get in touch with their inner chi on a yoga mat.

But for some New Yorkers, cutting loose on the weekends eschews all the pop trends. The skaters of the Central Park Dance Skaters Association say that a pair of roller skates offers the ultimate relief from a stressful week.

“It’s something to keep you steady and happy,” said Charles Threatt, a member of the association’s board. “Just put on some wheels and get your groove on.”

Every Saturday and Sunday from 2 p.m. to 6:30 p.m., hundreds of New Yorkers and tourists strap on their skates and whiz around the so-called Skaters’ Road, located at the foot of Olmsted Way at 72nd Street. They roll, twirl, twist, shake and spin to a DJ’s hip-hop, disco and salsa beats. 

The skaters’ impressive moves and catchy grooves have turned the association’s weekend skating events into a popular tourist attraction. The crowds and fame are a relatively recent phenomenon for the oldest skaters. They reminisce about a simpler time without turn tables, a gated rink or even the association.

Bradley himself is camera-shy, and he won’t be videotaped. In fact, he politely declined an interview for this story with a modest excuse: “I’m just another skater.”

He rarely joins the throng of wheeled patrons in the dance skaters’ circle. Instead, Bradley rolls with a group of skaters a few yard away, removed from the spectators, free from the arena gates and – most importantly, they say – from the organization.

Back in 1995, a police officer pulled the plug on the skaters’ fun – quite literally. He said it was against the law to play amplified music without a permit, but some skaters blame local residents for complaining too much about their fun.

“We had to appease the people on Central Park East, because the wind seemed to blow in that direction,” said David Rothman. “Some of the older members applied for a permit, and after a while, it just became a regular thing. They would apply for the permit and have to go through a lot of red tape and paperwork.”

This incident catalyzed the formation of the association, organized under the leadership of Lezly Ziering. This non-profit organization coordinates the weekend events, provides music and offers staff members to keep order, signs up new members and helps new skaters.

“It’s really taken a lot of the spontaneity out of what we had here,” said Kay. “But, obviously, the skating has stayed the same.”

Vera Sinnreich echoed that sentiment. “The atmosphere has stayed the same, the camaraderie,” she said. “This place means a lot to all of us. Everybody loves each other because to one another we’re a symbol of this place that has always been just pure pleasure.”

After the association shuts down its music and clears away its gates in the evening, the crowds dissipate into the park for other amusement. But some skaters always stay a little bit longer. Near Bradley’s removed skating spot, they flock to his row of lawn chairs, coolers and radios. It’s just like old times again.