I bolted a £180 riser onto my existing desk and forced myself to stand for at least half of every workday for a month. I expected sore feet and a novelty that wore off by week two. What actually changed was much smaller, and much more useful.
I'd been putting off a standing desk for years, mostly because the full electric sit-stand desks are expensive and I wasn't convinced I'd actually use one. So this wasn't a proper standing desk — it was a converter, a platform that sits on top of my existing desk and lifts my keyboard, mouse, and monitor up when I want to stand, then drops back down when I want to sit. Cheaper, reversible, and a fair test of whether the habit itself was worth building before I spent real money on furniture.
This is what a month of actually using it looked like, not the highlight reel version.
The setup: it's heavier and clunkier than it looks in photos
The converter arrived in a box I genuinely struggled to lift on my own, and assembly took the better part of an hour longer than the instructions implied — mostly because I underestimated how much force the gas-spring lifting mechanism needed to calibrate correctly. Once it was on the desk, though, it stayed there. No further tools, no reconfiguring. Lifting it from sitting to standing height is a two-handed pull on a lever, and it takes about three seconds once you know where the resistance point is.
The one thing I hadn't planned for: it eats desk depth. My monitor sits noticeably closer to me when the platform is raised, and I had to nudge my whole desk back from the wall by a few inches to compensate. If your desk is already tight on space, measure twice before you buy.
Where it genuinely earned its keep
The 2pm energy dip mostly disappeared. I hadn't clocked how much of my afternoon slump was posture-related until I started standing through it instead of sinking into a chair. I still get tired in the afternoon, but the specific slouched, foggy version of tired that used to hit around 2pm most days genuinely softened.
I moved more without deciding to. Standing at a desk isn't static — I shifted weight, paced a step or two during calls, stretched between emails. None of that happens sitting down. It's not exercise, but it's not nothing either, and it stacked up over a full workday in a way I noticed by week two. (It's also the reason I later slid an under-desk walking pad beneath the same converter — same instinct, more steps.)
Video calls got better, not worse. I expected standing to feel awkward on camera. The opposite happened — I sat up straighter, projected better, and stopped slouching into the frame the way I used to by the third call of the day.
It broke a bad habit of never getting up. The honest reason I bought this wasn't ergonomics — it was that I'd go four or five hours some days without leaving my chair. Having a lever to pull gave me a built-in prompt to change position, which turned out to matter more than the standing itself.
Living with it day to day
I settled into roughly half the day standing, half sitting, and that ratio came from my body telling me when to switch rather than a schedule I imposed. Mornings I mostly stood; by mid-afternoon my legs wanted the chair back. I stopped fighting that after the first week and just let the desk go up and down as needed, sometimes three or four times a day.
A cheap anti-fatigue mat under my feet made a bigger difference than I expected — standing on bare hardwood floor for two hours straight is a genuinely different experience to standing on even half an inch of cushioned mat. I added one in week two and wished I'd started with it.
Where it fell short
My lower back complained before my legs did. Nobody warns you that the first ache from standing too long isn't in your feet, it's in your lower back from a full day of subtly poor posture you don't notice until it's already sore. Good posture takes conscious effort standing in a way it doesn't sitting in a decent chair.
Typing accuracy dropped slightly when standing. Small thing, but real — my error rate on longer writing stints crept up when standing versus sitting, and I never fully worked out why. Might just be less stable arm positioning without armrests.
It's genuinely loud to raise and lower if you're not gentle with it. The gas-spring mechanism makes a solid clunk at the top and bottom of its travel. Fine in my home office; it would have been a problem in an open-plan space with people nearby.
Cable management became a small ongoing chore. Everything plugged into my monitor and dock now has to flex every time the platform moves, and I had to redo my cable routing twice before it stopped tugging at the ports.
"I didn't buy this to fix my posture. I bought it because I needed a reason to move, and it turned out to be a very good one."
Converter versus a full standing desk
The honest comparison: a converter is the cheaper, lower-commitment version of the same idea. You keep your existing desk, you don't need an electrician's confidence to assemble it, and you can sell it on if the habit doesn't stick. A full electric sit-stand desk moves more smoothly, doesn't eat your desk depth, and looks considerably tidier — but it costs several times as much and you're committing to a whole new piece of furniture rather than an add-on. If you're not sure the standing habit will actually take, start with a converter. If you already know you'll use it daily, the full desk is the better long-term buy.
Quick verdict: Worth it if you sit for most of your workday and want a low-cost, reversible way to test whether standing actually changes how you feel. Add an anti-fatigue mat from day one, and don't expect it to fix posture on its own — it just gives you more chances to correct it.
What I'd tell a friend before they buy one
Measure your desk depth before you order — this ate more space than I expected and I had to rearrange around it. Buy the mat at the same time as the converter, not after your feet have already complained. And go in expecting the real win to be movement and habit change, not a dramatic ergonomic transformation — the posture benefits are real but they take weeks to show up, not days. A month in, I'm still using it most days, which is more than I can say for most gadgets I've tested this year.
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Questions people actually ask
Is a standing desk converter worth it compared to a full standing desk?
A converter is the cheaper, lower-commitment version of the same idea: you keep your existing desk, assembly is manageable, and you can sell it on if the habit doesn't stick. If you already know you'll stand daily, a full electric sit-stand desk moves more smoothly and doesn't eat your desk depth — but as a way to test the habit before spending real money, the converter did the job for me.
How long should you stand at a standing desk each day?
I settled into roughly half the day standing and half sitting, switching three or four times a day as my body told me to rather than on a schedule — mornings standing, legs wanting the chair by mid-afternoon. Don't force a full day upright: my lower back complained before my feet did, and standing badly for hours is no better than sitting badly.
Do you need an anti-fatigue mat with a standing desk?
Yes — buy it at the same time as the desk, not after your feet have already complained. Standing on bare hardwood for two hours is a genuinely different experience to standing on even half an inch of cushioned mat; I added one in week two and wished I'd started with it.
Do standing desks actually help with energy and the afternoon slump?
For me, the specific slouched, foggy 2pm dip genuinely softened once I stood through it instead of sinking into a chair. The bigger win was less dramatic than the marketing suggests: it gave me a built-in prompt to change position and move more without deciding to, which mattered more than the standing itself.