For more than a decade, I’ve prided myself on being a work-from-home veteran. I’m not one of those newcomers thrust into the world of remote work by a global pandemic, awkwardly balancing a laptop on the ironing board or converting the spare room into a sterile office.
No, I’ve been working from home long enough to see trends come and go, to witness the rise and fall of the “work from the couch” movement and the inevitable return of some people to physical offices, weary of the isolation. Through it all, I stayed resolute in my setup—a sturdy desk, a good chair, and, let’s be honest, far too many snacks within arm’s reach.
But the winds of change are relentless, and it seems not even I could resist them forever. So here I am, after all these years, writing to you from a standing desk, perched elegantly like a modern-day work martyr, my feet gliding along on a walking treadmill beneath me. The very idea of it a few years ago would have had me rolling my eyes. Standing desks and walking treadmills? What are we, lab rats? But after working from home for so long, there came a point when even the most seasoned remote worker had to admit: things needed to change.
I suppose it all began with the nagging aches that started creeping into my body, the ones I had long chosen to ignore. I’m no stranger to stubbornness—who is after working from home for as long as I have? There’s a certain pride, or perhaps delusion, that comes with having your home office locked down just the way you like it.
But while I had embraced the freedom, my body had quietly declared a rebellion. The endless sitting—sometimes for hours at a stretch—had done me no favours. Let’s not mince words: years of sitting glued to a screen in the same chair can do unspeakable things to your posture, your back, and your waistline. And as the days turned into years, those small aches turned into a low hum that followed me around, until one day I realised, well I do turn fifty next year, I wasn’t a sprightly young thing anymore but rather someone who now grimaced every time they got up from their desk.
Enter the standing desk
The one that caught my eye was the FlexiSpot E7 Pro, a rather sleek piece of machinery that promised to solve all my woes and I have not looked back. Adjustable at the push of a button, sturdy as a tank, and with enough room to hold my array of notebooks, coffee cups, podcasting microphone, GoPro camera and all the other accompanying tech to deliver the weekly Everything EV podcast for EV Powered for our 100,00 plus listeners. I liked the idea of being able to change my position throughout the day—up when I needed to focus, down when I needed to relax (or, you know, read the news and pretend it’s research).
Standing, I have to admit, felt revolutionary. After years of slumping in my chair, albeit a posh Herman Miller Aeron from the days when we had our physical office at Canary Wharf that I trudged to every day. Here I was, upright, alert, feeling as though I had unlocked some kind of productivity superpower. I found myself moving more naturally, shifting my weight, stretching, and even feeling a little more engaged with what was happening on the screen in front of me. My legs stopped feeling so restless, and, dare I say, my back even started feeling better. It’s a simple change, really, but one that has made a remarkable difference to how I approach my workday. No longer do I feel as though I’m stuck in one spot for hours on end, slowly fusing to the chair like some kind of office furniture chimera.
Of course, standing alone wasn’t enough to completely shake up my routine. If I was going to go full wellness guru, I figured I might as well go all the way and invest in a walking treadmill. Yes, that’s right, I became one of those people—the ones who type away while walking at a slow, steady pace like a hamster on a wheel. At first, it seemed ridiculous, the sort of thing I’d have mocked over a cheeky g’n’t with friends pre-pandemic. But as my treadmill hums quietly beneath me, I have to admit that the novelty of it faded quickly, replaced by a real sense of purpose.
There’s something almost meditative about it, the gentle rhythm of the belt beneath your feet as you go about your day. No longer do I feel like my body is being held hostage by my desk. Instead, I’m in motion, constantly, even if it’s only at a modest pace – around 6mph is my average. It’s not about breaking a sweat (although that could come in handy during a particularly stressful deadline). It’s about moving, keeping the blood flowing, and not succumbing to the aches and lethargy that can so easily take hold during those long, stationary days.
It hasn’t transformed my life into a montage of fitness magazine perfection, but it’s a subtle shift that has made me feel better, more energised, and frankly, a bit smug about my setup. After years of believing I had everything just right, I’m realising that perhaps it’s not about locking into one way of working forever. Change is good, even for us old remote work dogs. And who knows, maybe in a few years I’ll be writing another piece extolling the virtues of some new gadget that I swore I’d never adopt.
For now, though, I’ll just be here—standing tall and taking it all in stride. Literally.
Read more:
The standing desk revolution: Why I finally gave in