The Last Word On Nothing

Yesterday in the Washington Post, I wrote about how I wanted to love my treadmill desk, but I just don’t.

I had high hopes. I’ve been a standing desk user for more than 10 years, long before they were a “thing.” I’m an active, restless person who already spends more than 80 percent of my workday standing, so a treadmill seemed like the natural next step in my workspace evolution.

But then I tried it. Walking feels good, and my impulse is to walk fast. The more I raised the speed (the treadmill can go up to four mph), the better the walking felt, but the more distracted I became from the task at hand. Walking slowly was even more distracting, due to my impulse to up the speed.

Walking on a desk treadmill, I soon discovered, is about as satisfying as eating a gourmet meal while driving. I love walking outside. Many of my best ideas come when I’m out walking my dogs. But combining walking and working seemed to diminish both experiences.

I’ve had my desk treadmill more than a year, and I remain so lukewarm about it that when my friend Paolo mentioned that he was thinking of getting one, I briefly considered giving him mine. Instead, he bought his own, and he loves his in just the same way I expected to love mine. As I wrote in the Post,

Bacigalupi says he’s more productive now. “I waste less time,” he says. “I tend to focus in and just get to work, instead of malingering on Facebook and Twitter.” He walks two to four hours per day at 1.8 to 2.6 mph, and he feels energized. “It’s sort of pleasant to finish my day’s writing work and have a feeling of my body being a little tired.”

Could it be, I asked Daniel Schwartz, a professor of education at the Stanford School of Education, that the reason Bacigalupi loves his treadmill so much more than I do comes down to the kinds of writing we do? He writes from inside his head — inventing new characters and worlds, without needing to refer to external documents. When I do writing that benefits when my mind can wander a little — essays and blog posts, for instance — I like desk walking too. But when I’m engaged in tasks that require me to hold lots of facts and disparate ideas in my thoughts at once — like writing a feature that weaves together a series of studies —  the treadmill feels like a distraction.

“I think your insight is right,” says Schwartz, who recently published a study showing walking boosts certain types of creativity. “If you know what you need to think about, walking is probably very good. But if you’re working on something new that has unfamiliar issues, then walking will probably interfere with that, because you have so much to keep in your working memory.”

It was a brilliant theory that could only be ruined by facts. Specifically,  Paolo’s disclosure that he likes the treadmill even for work like copy edits, which require working memory and attention to minutia.

And then there’s fellow LaWONian Craig Childs. I’d expected that Craig, who writes about rambling outdoor adventures, would loathe the thought of walking in an office, but he, too, has fallen in love with a treadmill desk. “Making six miles a day rather than zero has to count for something. I’ll probably keep using it as long as it works,” he says.

After more thought, I’ve realized that my problem with the treadmill desk is philosophical: I don’t like the idea of creating a life so based on multi-tasking that I never have to leave my office. And if I tire myself out walking at my desk all day, I’m apt to skip the running or other outdoor exercise I might otherwise do, thus missing out on added benefits like fresh air, interaction with nature and a chance to let my mind totally wander. As an athlete, I’ve been programmed to avoid mindless exercise done without purpose — “junk miles,” in athlete speak.

When I confessed my ambivalence to James Levine, the father of treadmill desks, he was surprisingly forgiving. “You have the yen to move, but in your case this isn’t the way your yen is best realized,” he told me. The solution to the overabundance of sedentary time at work demands an individualized solution, he says. As someone who has already (with the standup desk and my frequent runs) liberated myself from the office chair, the treadmill desk is probably overkill for me, Levine says. “Give your treadmill to someone who actually likes it.”

*Image by Erik Tadaa! via Flickr.