According to a recent study, the longer you sit behind a desk, the quicker death will come to you. Nihilists aside, this is troubling. But will we change? No.
As a dead man once espoused, before he was murdered: “Forgive your enemies but never forget their names”. I know the name of mine. I just don’t know how to say it. It’s Scandinavian. And while I built this desk with my own two hands (and the supplied instructions), I know it will be the death of me. And not in the cute way your partner is with their numerous shortcomings, but the serious way.
The way of Science.
Now, I hear what you’re saying. It’s just one study. From 2013. So, what? In the metropolis of echo chambers and confirmation bias, one is indeed the loneliest peer-reviewed number; I totally agree. Well, let me tell you about forty, stud.
According to the pile of data, we require a minimum of sixty minutes of exercise a day to undo the damage wrought from sitting down. A slight caveat, that’s not sixty minutes to get buff, that’s sixty minutes to avoid premature death. You’d still be the same ugly you, and you’d leave the same ugly corpse…but just slightly further down the timeline.
Not that I’m judging. I’m merely transposing my fear onto another party. As someone chained to the desk for the majority of my days, it seems that the findings line up with my hypothesis on why my partner turns the light off.
According to the findings, the damage from prolonged sitting is thought to be due to reduced muscle activity, especially in the large muscles of the legs and back, which can decrease the body’s ability to regulate blood sugar and remove harmful blood fats. Sitting for long periods may also adversely affect blood vessel function and increase food cravings, causing us to eat more and gain weight.
By ways of a solution, the findings push for a change of tack. To become an ‘active couch potato’. But, let’s be honest, we’re not going to do that. For those in denial, the solution is to bring your work with you as you traipse around the office. For the rest of us, I’ll see you in the next life. Hopefully where we can get 1950s diner fare delivered to our grubby selves. Like in Wall-E.
Man, that’d be sweet.