Building an Office Treadmill Desk—on the Cheap
After the crash-and-burn experience of two failed office treadmill attempts, I’m happy to report that I actually have a reliable, quiet treadmill set-up with a laptop table gracing the top.
I would love to have one of those expensive Steel Case treadmill desks, or a Tread Desk. It wasn’t in the budget at the moment, however, so I did the next best thing: rigged up my own. The desk part itself cost nothing, just an hour of time in cutting some boards (found in the garage) and screwing them together. The result is handy little wood caddy that sits on top of the treadmill’s side bars and supports my laptop. I’d like a larger table, and will probably build one on top in the next week or two. But this is fine for now, and I’m elated that I can finally get started walking while working.
In spite of this incredible progress, I’m sorry to report that I won’t be getting started on my laptop-treadmill combo tonight. Guess building the little table kind of wore me out. Not to worry, though. Tomorrow is another day, and my poorwoman’s treadmill desk is right there waiting for me, all set-up and ready to go.
The Terrible Tale of Two Treadmill Desks
I’m not a natural multi-tasker (walking while chewing gum is a challenge for me), but this movement towards walking while working really caught my attention. Unfortunately, my first two attempts at setting up a treadmill desk have met with various shades of disaster.
Attempt number one involved looking for a cheap treadmill on Craigslist, just to see if I really could type while standing. After locating an apparently fine piece of equipment with a glowing description, I e-mailed the owner to see what I could find out. The fellow was gracious enough (for reasons I would understand later), even offering to “throw” the treadmill onto the back of his truck and bring it right to my door.
A rather chatty redneck-type, he soon arrived in my driveway, pick-up, treadmill and all. Unfortunately for my short and tumultuous relationship with this treadmill, it was disgust at first sight. I had serious questions about the viability—not to mention reliability—of this machine from the moment it graced my drive. The overalled fellow drowned my thoughts with his chatter, telling me that he ran nine businesses (another warning sign) and other miscellaneous facts I had no need to know.
I felt kind of bad, you know, sending him away after he’d driven all the way over (which fit right into his strategy, I am sure). And it was only a hundred dollars. He looked like he needed it more than me, so I doled it out more to get rid of him than anything else. I figured I’d get some use out of the rather antiquated looking beast, then send it on its way.
Things deteriorated quickly when we got the treadmill into the house and took a better look. My first sign something was drastically wrong was the light switch gracing the dashboard. The second alarm went off when we turned on the treadmill. It was kind of like walking on a freight train, if you know what I mean. I forced myself to use that treadmill for all of two minutes, before hitting the light switch power gizmo and shutting it off for the night. I never got up the gumption to use it again. It was simply too loud. Plus that, it made me feel gullible and mad all at the same time. The next time someone offers to deliver a piece of equipment to my house sight unseen I’ll have a ready answer.
They have a handy little service in our town where they pick up junk once a month. I thought about giving the treadmill to the Salvation Army, but couldn’t see why they would want it. So I dragged it out to the curb and felt a certain sense of relief when they hauled it away.
It took me a year to get up my gumption and purchase another treadmill. This one came from a second hand sports store, one I had done business with before. The guy is real nice, and after some consideration and conversation I decided on an inexpensive treadmill. This one cost $400, but the sales guy assured me that it was good quality (though used) and would last me for quite awhile.
I set-up the treadmill, hooked up my makeshift laptop table, and settled in for some writing. Things were going fine for about .4 miles. I did learn a couple of things. The treadmill, which was incredibly quiet when I turned it on at the shop, got noisy the minute I stepped on it (and no, I don’t weigh a ton). I learned that I can type and walk at the same time, although 1 mile per hour (as some people do) was quite boring. Two miles per hour was actually quite a good speed for me.
I was actually just revving up, thinking of how the pounds would melt away and how wonderful this new “walking while working” way of life might be—when a strange burning odor wafted up to my nostrils. My nose doesn’t work very well, so by the time I smell something things are usually bad. I was just looking around the garage, wondering what might be on fire, when I got my second signal that something was drastically wrong. The treadmill stopped. Overheated. Whirred, whined, and quit. And just like that, my second attempt at walking while working when up in a smelly, rubbery smoke.
Guess I’ll go see that nice feller at the treadmill store tomorrow. He’s a good guy, I know he’ll get me another. But I am starting to wonder, how many treadmill desks will I have to set up before I get one that works? Thus far on my treadmill journey, I’ve met one Craigslist scammer with a light switch gizmo, and one worn out second that burns rubber than grinds to a halt.
Hopefully for me, the third time’s the charm. Otherwise I’ll have to hang-up the idea of a treadmill desk, sink into my easy chair, and hang on to my extra pounds.