We have had the good fortune to test out a FitDesk here at Frisky HQ and I have decided to give you an honest account of my experience working on it. As I write this piece, I promise to pedal the entire without stopping for at least 20 minutes, without censoring myself whatsoever as to authentically capture the experience. When I posted a new picture of Amelia at the FitDesk on my Instagram feed, my friend, also a writer, commented that this is “the kind of thing I long for.” Actually, me too. My favorite thing to do since becoming a writer is to complain about how my neck and shoulders hurt all the time and whine about how my life would be better if I could exercise more like I did when I was underemployed. (Not that I want to go back to being underemployed. That sucked. I love what I do, just hate the neck pain.) I try to mitigate the neck and shoulder discomfort with daily stretches, regular yoga, forced shoulder rubs from my boyfriend, but by noon everyday, my neck is hurting like a mofo again. Everyone’s like, your desk just isn’t set up right. You need to consider the ergonomics. And I’m like, fuck it. I have work to do. I’d rather just complain about it, thank you very much.
Because when you’re a writer you sit all day long, I know this is the case for people with other careers as well. But when the problem is your problem, it takes on a new sense of urgency, but the kind of urgency where all you’re willing to do about the problem is complain. (See above.) So let me complain to you some more: In my time since becoming a writer, my already creaky neck (from an old car accident) has become so stiff that I often joke that I need neck replacement surgery. Does that exist? Because if it does, I’m starting a Kickstarter to raise money for mine. Is that better or worse than the girl trying to raise money for her dream vacation. Better? Whatever, I am not censoring myself here. I AM WORKING OUT WHILE I WORK. OK. And that was my five minute warmup. ONWARD HO!
Minute 2: I am starting to sweat ever-so-slightly, but I’m noticing that there;s a flow to my wordsmithing that I can’t normally achieve by sitting at a regular desk. At my last job, the owners of the company hired a FengShui consultant to come in and bless our office or whatever. Her name was Sylvia and she was a British woman with missing teeth, long grey hair and bowler hat with eagle feathers hanging off of it. When she walked through our office, she would stop abruptly and shout something like, “This area has rhythm!” And we would all snicker under our breath at the unlucky assistant whose job it was to take notes on her “impressions.” When I had my personal consultation with her, all she said was: “You should always wear black to absorb all your negative energy.” So sweet she was. That Sylvia. I want to get paid thousands of dollars to tell people how negative they are or how much rhythm their kitchen has. That woman had the best job in the world. I thought of her because I used the word rhythm, forever intertwined with Sylvia in my mind. See!! No self-editing! Because that’s what us writers secretly love to do most: SELF-EDIT TO THE POINT OF ANXIETY AND THEN COMPLAIN ABOUT HOW MUCH WE HATE WHAT WE JUST WROTE. FitDesk, are you my magic antidote to critical self-judgement?
Minute 8: I shouldn’t have worn wedges today, or a dress, because I would have been more free on the FitDesk. I would like to hike the dress up, but them my co-workers would probably all see my crotch. Not like a little crotch would throw anyone off here at the Frisky. Never has before. Basically, if you’re not willing to listen to the story of Jessica’s missing tampon (in earnest) or Amelia’s wank session to Farrah Abraham’s sex tape, then you probably shouldn’t work here.
Minute 11: I’m finding that the FitDesk is more comfortable than my regular desk. Better lumbar support. I should turn the resistance up right about now, but I’m wondering if that would interfere with my ability to write in this stream of consciousness style that seems to be working for me. I will try anyway because I like to push myself. Pardon me if my writing gets worse.
Minute 15: Had the urge to check my email when I went to turn the resistance knob, but decided not to because I felt like it was too frivolous in light of my current situation (heart rate elevated). Pedaling through more resistance makes me think of more difficult topics, like whether or not I should have an opinion about Sydney Leathers doing porn. I’ve just clicked through her bikini pics and she looks like a real girl. I like that she has tattoos. Weirdly, her bikini pics make me like her more. But my stance of her possible porn hasn’t changed. I want to tell her not to sexually commodify herself because of the Weiner scandal. But, I mean, once you’ve met with the CEO of Vivid, what’s stopping you? She should just change her name, move somewhere remote, get a FitDesk and write a tell-all book. Including a chapter where she explains how she was able to return his sexts without gagging (they were so unoriginal!) and why his penis looks so strange in the pictures. I’ve spent way more time than one should thinking about Anthony Weiner’s penis. I really want that part of my life to be over. I need to turn the resistance down because a) I don’t want to think about this anymore and b) I have plans after work and I’m not prepared to sweat profusely.
Minute 18: I feel like FitDesking is the equivalent of getting an afternoon cup of coffee or in my case, bubble tea, which I’ve been obsessed with lately (minus the sweating). It’s giving me that little extra jolt of productivity. Ugh. And now I want a bubble tea and a macaroon. Green tea, medium sweet with lychee jellies and a Nutella macaroon. I feel like I should treat myself once I’m done exercising. Hey! If I had planned to go to the gym today, I would be done with my workout. Not that I was planning to go today. But if I was … I wonder how many calories I burned.
Minute 22: I am (dare I say it?) proud of myself? Or are those the endorphins talking? I am a notoriously bad multi-tasker. I have the opposite of ADD. TVD, I call it, tunnel vision disorder. I can’t un-focus once I’m focused on something. I seem to be doing two things at one time and that makes me feel productive. I love feeling productive. Hell yes!
Minute: 23: I feel like I have to do 30 minutes exactly, which I know is irrational. I always do this at the gym, I end on an even number. This is the opposite way I feel about setting my alarm clock. Never on an even number: 6:03 a.m. 7:17 a.m. When did I start doing this. No idea? Always, I think.
Minute 30: Verdict on FitDesk: Great for writing, bad for editing. Will have to go back to my desk to check for spelling mistakes. OK. I can stop now because EDITING and BUTT SWEAT and BUBBLE TEA.