My desk wields a black hole of sluggishness against which I have no power. After eight or nine hours, it becomes a dark place that destroys my very soul. The only solution is to escape it, so to say I was excited about an all-day TreadDesk excursion would be a wild understatement.

For years now, I've been publicly verbalizing that I'd give anything to install a treadmill at my desk. I never imagined such a thing would exist, or that I'd have to put my money where my mouth is. But just like French fry oil-fueled cars and 3-D television, here it is. The future is now. If I didn't try this out, I'd be a hypocrite of massive proportions.

As far as my physical fitness background goes, I've played sports for my entire life. I've been known to break noses in volleyball, and I will never -- I repeat, never -- let you pass me on the track at the YMCA, despite the fact that I'm an incompetent runner and am probably about to have a heart attack. You might say I'm mildly competitive.

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