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Ask Slashdot: How To Stay Fit In the Office?
Kochnekov writes "This week I started my first co-op job as a chemical engineering student. I work in an R&D lab, but in between daily tasks there is a lot of downtime, which I spend at my desk, staring at my computer. I know Slashdot is used mostly by IT professionals and desk jockeys, so chances are you've all encountered the draining effects of sedentary office life: joint and back pain, weight gain, heart health risks, etc. What are some ways to counteract the negative health effects of a desk job, both during and after work?"
Seriously. Regardless of what your working situation is, it's as simple exercise and diet. Take your lunch to work and be active on weekends. This makes a huge difference. If you're lucky enough to have a gym at work, use it.
I see the glass as full with a FoS of 2.
Doughnuts, plenty of doughnuts. They contain all the nutrients you need and help keeping you in shape.
But that shit is boring. Don't stay up late watching Colbert Report and get up early and ride a bike. And ride it like someone is chasing you that wants to kill you. I've lost 75 lbs and have turned myself into an elite amateur athlete (won a few races here and there on the road bike and mountain bike) by getting up early and riding. It works big time (I'm proof) and it's WAY more fun than calisthenics or going to a gym to work out. I work in front of a computer all day long. Cycling is literally saving my life.
Browse Slashdot while you're supposed to be working, use your lunch time to go for a walk.
If you were blocking sigs, you wouldn't have to read this.
I second this. A stand up desk is great for your legs, back and heart. Sitting can kill you. I use a 27" monitor with this arm, suspended from an overhead shelf. I can pivot it between a standing and sitting position. But as my legs and back have strengthened, I spend less and less time sitting. Now I usually only sit for meals and meetings.
Another advantage to standing, is that when people come into my office, they want to talk to me at eye-to-eye level. So they don't sit down either. This results in short-and-to-the-point conversations.
I'm an Aikido guy (2nd Degree Black belt). It's fairly useful in a fight (depending on your teacher, I guess). Mostly for teaching you how to get around one, or making it look like all self defense. My Dad (4th Degree, owns his own club) has taught SWAT teams and Police forces, because it's pretty good for subduing attackers without a lot of blood.
Masturbate at work, often. It's good cardio, keeps your arms limber (switch up from time to time), and keeps your hand-shaking grip good and firm for those office meetings.
It's also very good for your morale and overall calmness, which will spread to your co-workers around you and create a feedback loop of contentedness. You will seem to everyone to have it together, you'll get raises and promotions. You'll be great at racket-ball with the execs due to exercising your grip and pump. Eventually you will be made President of the company.
That's right: Chronic Masturbation will make you the President. That's how I became the President of the Hair Club for Men.
Bike to work, take stretching brakes.
Burn FAT not OIL
Around two years ago I worked in a remote field office of a big company. Alongside me were hundreds of engineers, technicians, electricians, mechanical guys, you name it. Most of the time everything was just fine, with no real issues.
One day a new electrical engineer arrived on the scene. He was maybe 6' (give or take an inch) and lean and mean. He was an Aikido guy, and soon began teaching people after hours.
The guy had kind of a douchey attitude, always stalking the halls like the Terminator hunting for Sarah Connor. He scowled a lot and generally played the Hard Man routine for all it was worth.
One day he cornered me in the work canteen. I stand a hair over 6' 4 1/2" and weigh ~270 lb. He seemed to be offended by this, even though I'm not in any way a fighter, and I don't work out or train in anything.
He demanded to know if I did any of that martial arts shit, so I told him I had a black belt in running away. That offended him even more, and from then on he sneered and smirked whenever he saw me.
Like I gave a fuck.
Anyhoo, one night a couple months later I was in a local bar having a quiet drink. Actually, quite a lot of them, because I drink too much. Nevertheless, I was happy, when in walked Mr. Aikido and his Dojo Posse. Some of them were guys I was formerly friendly with, but had now assumed the Hard Man mantle of their sensei.
Still, I minded my own business like always, reading a magazine and drinking some more, but - you guessed this was coming, right - Mr. Aikido stomped up and snatched the magazine away, throwing it across the room. He shoved his face close to mine and said "Run away."
So I stood up and made to leave, because I'd drunk too much already and it was past my bedtime.
This caused Mr. Aikido no end of amusement and also disgust, so he pushed me into a table. When I regained my balance and turned to face him, he punched me really fucking hard in the guys.
Christ it hurt, and I doubled over, winded. Then I puked all over him, because, you know, it's never a great idea to punch a fully-laden drunk in the guts at the end of the night.
As you can imagine, this did not please Mr. Aikido, so he gave me a smack in the head that was so hard it made me remember where I'd left my spare car key back in 1998, the one I'd not been able to find.
So my gut feels like it's been ruptured and I'm sure my brain is falling out through the new hole in the side of my skull, so I did the only thing I could do. I fell on him.
And he was fucked, because as fast and strong and honed and skilled as he was, all of that shit, I weighed half as much again as he did, and I squashed him to the floor.
While we're down there he starts trying to knee me in the nuts, and I realized that if he was successful I'd be in big trouble, so I did the only other thing I could do. I smashed my forehead down on his nose as hard as I could. I pretended his face was a pillow and I was about to go to sleep.
It hurt me, but it hurt him way more. I felt the bones in his nose crush and I think I heard his cheekbone crack, but then again I was pretty fucked up myself at this point.
But that was the end of that. He was out for the night.
The bar owner came and helped me up, because I was a good customer who'd probably paid off his boat for him, and he shoved me out the front door and into the back seat of a truck. Next thing I know I wake up on my kitchen floor at home and it's morning.
Mr. Aikido spent a couple days in hospital and was away from work for a few weeks. When he came back he avoided me, then after a while he was gone. Transferred out, I was told.
The first moral of this True Story is that it doesn't fucking matter how 1337 are your m4d sk1llz if a huge vomiting drunk falls and pins you to the floor and smashes your fucking face in. The second moral is don't be a fucking douche.