Friday was the day we were all waiting for all week. It was the day of the company picnic slash day off. Everyone in our office was required to go to a little apple farm on the other side of the mountain for fun, games and food. It was the first time the company pulled off a retreat that had almost 100% participation in conjunction with a day off. And while I wouldn't say that everyone was incredibly enthusiastic, most of us were and that's all that matters.

We met on the other side of the mountain around 10 in the morning and almost immediately (after a bit of warm up with a Nerf football) went into the barn to learn how to line dance. Now, personally, I think line dancing is conformist and fascist, but I was a good sport and tripped through the Electric Slide and the Boot Scoot Boogie (these two dances, by the way, are pretty much the same except for the turn-kick-kick-turn). When they went into the next dance, the barn got small, and I was going to be running into the wall, so I skipped out.

The next event was an almost spontaneous water gun fight. The day before, I had gone to Target and bought five guns and some cameras for the event. When I got back to the office, everyone wanted a water gun, so two others were dispatched to clean out Target of the small $3.50 model. So for the picnic, we had 20 guns plus larger ones people had brought on their own. In thirty minutes, most of us were soaked to the skin, and many of the young women had to make a quick retreat to change their shirts (some did not heed my advice the day before to NOT wear white shirts). Us guys, of course, just dripped and dried in the sun while the picnic moved on to the eating.

Softball followed the eating (along with volleyball in another section of the field. My team got up 4-0 in the first, but it was a bit downhill from there. Guys had to hit from their weak side (for most of us, it was the first time we'd ever had to bat left-handed) and our fielding was somewhat suspect. When I started pitching, the other team lit me up like a Christmas tree. And while I did manage to strike a few guys out (including my boss) and hit a child of ten or in the hand (he was crowding the plate), my E.R.A. was probably around 15 or so. We lost 10-5 or something close to that.

A football game almost started immediately after, but we heard that they were giving prizes out at the barn. After a hula hoop contest (won by the 19-year-old daughter of the picnic organizer) and other prize handouts, the football players headed back to the field for another round of roughhousing.

My team did much better in football. We won 28-7, mostly because we intercepted them three times which led almost directly to scores. I got the last interception and might have been able to run it all the way back if I hadn't tried to juke in the loose dirt of home plate and fallen on my face. We scored on the next play and called the game. Everyone was hot and dirty.

After the picnic broke up, there was drinking at the home of a co-worker. It began to rain about an hour into the drinking and kept pouring for a long time. When the crowd began to disperse, I caught a ride back into town.

I realized when I got home that I had been out in the sun a bit. My neck was very red, and my face, arms and legs had a nice glow to them. I lathered on the aloe and got to sleep rather easily. When I woke up around 7 the next morning, my neck wasn't the only thing that stung. My legs were very sore. And my back was a little stiff. And it was right around this time that I realized, oh yeah, I'm 30. And, because the mountains have been closed for the last two months for fear of fire, I haven't been hiking as much as I usually do. A little out of shape? Yeah, that could be it.

I stretched everything out and felt better for about a half hour. And then everything tightened up again, so I stretched again and felt a little better. But by the time I was ready to go to a big Austin Powers drinking party (another office, but not company-sponsored, event), I was still rather sore. The couple of beers and four or five strawberry margaritas helped to kill the pain rather well.

This morning, my neck still hurts and my legs are still sore, but I feel good. Like I did something other than sit on my butt all day and stare at a computer. I feel like I accomplished something physical and, while there have been repercussions, I feel like I succeeded. I did what I wanted to do, which was break the cycle.

Even if that cycle starts once again Monday morning.

Matt Worley won a spontaneously created award for "Best Hair After The Squirt-Gun Fight."