The Wellness Retreat We Didn't Ask For

The third vitamin of the morning dissolved on my tongue like chalk. "Vitality starts from within," proclaimed Marcus, the CEO whose boundless energy seemed manufactured rather than earned. I swallowed without water, pretending to believe in this corporate wellness weekend we'd all been forced to attend.

By the pool, forty colleagues in matching swimsuits performed synchronized stretches, their movements eerily coordinated. I perched on a lounge chair, nursing lukewarm coffee and contemplating how much of my career had been spent pretending to care about things that didn't matter.

"You look like someone who'd rather be anywhere else."

I looked up. Elena from marketing stood there holding two plastic cups filled with something alarmingly green. "Spinach smoothie," she said, offering one. "The wellness coordinator claims it's nature's antidepressant."

"Does it work?"

"Only if you believe in it." She sat beside me, stretching her legs out. "Which I don't. But I've gotten very good at pretending."

Something shifted between us—a recognition of shared exhaustion with the performative aspects of corporate life.

"Padel?" she asked, gesturing toward the court where two VPs were aggressively hitting balls back and forth, their competitive energy strangely at odds with the wellness theme.

"Why not."

We played for an hour, not caring about the score, finding something genuine in the simple rhythm of hitting and returning. When we finally collapsed onto the grass, sweat cooling on our skin, Elena pressed her forehead against my shoulder.

"I'm transferring to the Chicago office," she said quietly. "Three months from now."

The pool's surface shimmered beyond the fence, catching the late afternoon light. Around us, colleagues continued their forced networking, their vitamin supplements, their curated conversations about balance and mindfulness.

"Take me with you," I said, half-joking, mostly not.

Elena laughed, but her eyes held something else—possibility, perhaps, or the beginning of something we'd both been too tired to look for until now. She kissed me then, tasting like spinach and desperation, and I thought maybe the wellness retreat hadn't been entirely wasted after all.

Some vitamins do work, just not the ones they sell us.