Literary Legs

The DC Police Chief and Valspeak

An off-duty DC plainclothes detective received some unwanted attention this weekend when he pulled his gun (read and watch here) on a bunch of snowball-throwers who, after pelting his Hummer when it got stuck in the snow, decided to help him by pelting him with snowballs after he got out. 

In response, DC Police Chief Cathy Lanier put out an official statement, where she put on her best Valley Girl impersonation:

"Let me be very clear in stating that I believe the actions of the officer were totally inappropriate!"

An attorney at our firm once asked me if I could go over the rules regarding the use of exclamation points. I jokingly told him no. Since he should never be using exclamation points in legal writing in the first place, I told him, he does not need to know the rules. And Lanier's sentence illustrates my point.  They have no place in formal writing, whether it's legal writing, business writing, technical writing, press releases, you name it. 

Furthermore, the word totally adds nothing.  Is totally inappropriate any more severe than just plain ol' inappropriate?  It's a useless, meaningless intensifier.  Part of the problem, I think, is that inappropriate has become a cliche and itself almost means nothing due to its overuse in describing any type of behavior that we think is wrong: sexually inappropriate behavior in the workplace, for example, or inappropriate behavior in the classroom.  Still, for those of us who grew up in the 80s, totally reminds many of us of Valspeak.

Lastly, this statement is loaded with the kind of metadiscourse (let me be clear, in stating, I believe) that weakens what is supposed to be a forceful position.  Metadiscourse is a discussion about a discussion, or a reference to our own thinking.  It is usually a waste of time and just gets in the way of the writer's message.  Sometimes we can use it to soften a message, and to be fair to Lanier, if she had written

The officer's actions were inappropriate

She may have been viewed as throwing a fellow officer under the bus.  So I think maybe one of the metadiscourse examples could have stayed:

Let me be clear that the officer's actions were inappropriate OR

I believe that the officer's actions were inappropriate

But all three?  No way.  If you teach a writing course, take a look at Lanier's whole statement. Use it with your students for a great exercise in revision. 

The Best Time to Run

Last week in her Fitness and Nutrition column, Gina Kolata in the New York Times had an interesting discussion about the best time of the day to exercise.  She became curious when she realized her heart rate was always lower when she exercised in the morning as opposed to the late afternoon or early evening.  She first thought this might mean that since her heart rate was lower for the same workout, she was a more efficient exerciser in the morning.

Instead, after talking to exercise researchers, Kolata discovered the following:

• Speed, power, and strength are the worst in the morning
• The same workout, in terms of perceived exertion, actually appears harder in the morning
• Everything--heart, lungs, and muscles--is more efficient later in the day. 

Of course, this flies in the face of almost every road race start time, since most begin around 8am.  But it appears that the best time for your workout is late afternoon or early evening.

I was just thinking about this the other day.  I like to exercise early in the day because there are no excuses at 6:30am.  There is no place I have to be.  And I can get it done without having to fit it in later in the day.  But there are two drawbacks.  One, I have never been able to just roll out of bed, lace up my shoes, and head out the door.  Instead, I need at least 30 minutes of awake time.  And two, these runs always require more effort; they always seem to be more laborious.

On the other hand, the last thing I want to do after work is run.  I am tired, I want to relax, and I want to eat dinner.  I know myself well enough to realize that the likelihood of my going out for a run decreases with each passing hour; by the time 7pm rolls around, I can produce a whole litany of excuses for staying home.  Yet a funny thing happens when I do run in the evening: it is effortless. I can run longer at a faster pace.  I make a mockery of hills. I breeze down long straightaways. I feel more efficient, and my form (at least to me) feels perfect. Everything feels good. 

So the evening run is paradoxical to me: I dread starting it, yet I also know that it is easy once I get started.  The morning run is easier to start, but not as easy to power through.