Oh, the places I go...

           I spend a good deal of time on the Trinity River. I live on the Trinity, I work across the street from the Trinity, and I do most of my training along its copious amounts of running and cycling paths. Most of the time I spend actually near the river is training an trying to stay focused, and the Trinity is so perfect because it allows me to step back from working hard and see things differently. I do my hardest workouts at Trinity park, and no matter how seriously I try to take myself, I get a little dose of humility and child-like wonder seeing the mini choo-choo train chug by. Most of the races I volunteer at for work start at the duck pond, another one of my favorite parts of the river. It's pretty difficult to feel angry or sad when ducks are frolicking about around the runners, acknowledging only the ones who brought the gaggle something to snack on. The best part of the river I get to see when I go running at about dusk from my apartment, the skyline of downtown all lit up against its reflection on the river. There's something calming about seeing the skyline so still and the river so quiet, but thinking about how much hustle and bustle is out of sight. If nothing else, the river is an absolutely wonderful place to get in a healthy amount of people-watching. I love it for the same reason I love selling running shoes: everybody has a reason to get out and walk/run/ride/etc. When I see that 60-year-old man practically hobbling down the river in short running shorts and a sweatband, all I can think about is what goal he's looking to achieve like running his 50th marathon or maybe just staying healthy enough to play with his grandkids. Everybody on the river has a story, and so does every duck pond, dam, and mini train.

In-Class for 8/30

                The logos and the American flag are a shocking image at first, but I think they really go hand-in-hand. I think this is an appeal to Pathos, because not all of the 30 logos on the flag are corporations Americans are proud to be associated with. Not every American wears Nike, buys Playboy on a monthly basis, or buys their pharmaceuticals from Eli Lilly, but that's what our country is all about. Everybody is so different, and the 13 stripes on the flag remind us that we're all on the same page, even if we're different colors, lengths, or run into certain obstacles. The flag might also argue a Logos appeal because regardless of the undertones these corporations present, they are hugely successful and uniquely American. We can be proud of the millions of dollars these companies bring in and the millions of people they employ whom might not have a job otherwise. I could call it the United State of Everything.

food for thought

          Mark Bittman presents quite the argument in defense of the healthy home-cooked meal that rarely makes its way onto the American dinner table. His use of the three appeals definitely brings out the key points of his argument, but also highlights the weaknesses. The first few paragraphs of this essay rehash his career as a food journalist and author, so the Ethos appeal leads the reader to trust him because of his authority in this field. Having said that, this isn't a food review. This is a piece on trends in American consumption, obesity, animal cruelty, and ethical eating. At least for me, Ethos wasn't the most powerful appeal in this piece. I think the Logos Bittman uses in the essay makes more of an impact. He points out that the only country that eats out more (and arguably as poorly) as we do is Japan. The invention and popularization of the microwave and the growing frozen food industry lead to just as much laziness in food preparation. The rise Americans saw in the speed of food, like fast food, casual dining chains, and frozen food, was matched by the rush to maturity experienced by the animals used for production. Fowl were force-fed to make foods like foie gras much faster and cows are machine-fed and probably never leave the confines of a pen. This appeal can be very closely relates to the Pathos the author uses, since such imagery and statistics are disappointing to hear. Nobody wants to think of themselves and their friends as the immobile, shake-sipping WALL-E humans that Bittman suggests we could all become. The animals not lucky enough to be raised free-range are sentenced to a life of isolation, a devastating image to think about. As an athlete, I'm one of those people who thinks of food as fuel. What you put into your body will show when you put it to the test. The other factor in my food decisions that Bittman fails to mention is money. Eating in a healthy, local, free-range, fresh way is expensive. Poor college kids can't always afford to buy organic, and when the salad at McD's is $7.50 and the McChicken is $1, there's not much of a decision to be made. It's hard to think about animal cruelty when you're starving and on a budget.

In-Class for 8/25

Do you agree that everything is an argument?

I do agree that everything is an argument for SOMETHING. Sometimes it's a little bit more unclear what that something is. Nobody would write a table of statistics and numbers that look like they could be another language if they didn't mean something, explain something, or do something. Every research paper that I mope my way through feels like it will be scanned over once, given an arbitrary letter grade, and deleted forever. If nothing else, turning in that paper make the argument that I put forth enough effort to earn a grade at all. I made an argument that I care about that given document. At base level, I argued that I can use a word processing tool competently (a skill not to be taken for granted after attempting to use number processing tools like Excel.) I think advertisements and opinon pieces are much more ouvert about their argument than choosing an outfit for the three hours of class I attended today, but all three make an argument for something like what you should buy, what you should think, and what kind of respect you deserve (respectively.) The first chapter of the book makes the point that everything is an argument, and there are several different cetegories of arguments. Once you label something like an my empirical research article as "academic argument," it has a more defined purpose for persuasion.

Hello, my name is...

     

   My name is Ellen and I am finally a senior at TCU!  I was born and raised just across the river in Plano, Texas, but I definitely call Cowtown my home now. I will be graduating in May of 2012 with a degree in Sport Psychology with a minor in Psychology as well. I appreciate my training related to the mental game as an athlete myself; I regularly participate in triathlons, duathlons, and running events from 5K to half marathons.



         My goals in writing are surprisingly similar to my goals in everyday athletic endeavors. I am always trying to be a more efficient cyclist, use less energy to run faster, tune a swim stroke to last longer. Similarly, I want my writing to be of a higher quality and more powerful, but take less time to crank out. I'm someone who doesn't necessarily struggle with writing, but if I am producing an important piece, I take astronomical amounts of time to pre-write, write, proofread, get opinions, and so on. I'm getting to the part of my education where the writing I produce is no longer just affecting the grades I receive, but also the jobs I can get and internships I can hold. I have to persuade professors, research committees, and peers that I can be a reliable source of information. Most of the writing I do now has to do with article reviews and my senior research in sport psychology, and even though it's a scientific topic, there is an argument I am trying to make. The academic arguments I make in my research papers seem trivial, but classmates and I hope that our studies will affect the lives of athletes and coaches alike in the future.