I have no idea what happened, but for the last couple of hours, a phrase has been on a loop in my head…

I don’t have time for bullshit!

Don’t know if it’s intuition or instinct – someone around me is lying. I have no idea who. I don’t know if it’s in real life or on Facebook. They may be lying to themselves and talking about it. Or they may be just straight out trying to pull one over on the rest of us. (When I used to bust kids for chewing gum in class – which I don’t anymore because I really don’t care and see NO negative correlation between gum chewing and learning math – I would tell the class that I have a list of seven people chewing gum and if they tossed it now, no one would get hurt.  And then ten kids would get up and toss out gum.  The actual number of names on my list?  Zero to three.   OK – an example of how to effectively use bullshit to manage a classroom.  I assume the statement “someone is lying” and including Facebook in the parameters for consideration makes it a certainty, doesn’t it?)

I am 51 years, 5 months, and 12 days old today. The average life expectancy of a woman in my state is 79 years. The average life expectancy of a woman in the state where I was born is 81.5. My mother died when she was 56. Nothing is guaranteed, right? But it’s safe to assume that I have lived over 50% of my life already.

So I have ZERO time and patience for bullshit.

I want every second I’m breathing to be authentic. Real. Good or bad. If I suspect someone is lying to me or hiding something from me, I get aggressively annoyed. I get equally annoyed by people who waste my time. I get annoyed by people who lie to themselves and then stand there and repeat that BS to me. I’m constantly checking in with my own head to determine if I’m being authentic with myself or just telling myself what I want to hear.  I have a few people around me who will call me on my own bullshit and I love that about them.  I need it.  I really don’t have time to waste being anything but authentic and real.

I know this is a fitness-orientated blog, so I should attempt to tie it in, although I suspect the thing that has tripped my BS alarm is not fitness related at all.

It doesn’t matter what you “like” or “don’t like” to eat if we’re talking about entire food groups. Our bodies are biological organisms that have complicated systems that require nutrients and water to function optimally. Philosophy doesn’t change science. (I don’t care if you believe in gravity or not. You’re not floating right now, are you?) I’m sure the vegans are thinking I’m talking about them. You’re right. I’m sure the carnivores are thinking I’m talking about the vegans. You’re wrong.  I’m talking about you, too.  EAT ACTUAL VEGETABLES, damn it!!!  I’m not going to waste my time telling you why you need vegetables.  You know you do.  Geez.   If the grain supply wasn’t all screwed up with genetically modified seeds so it’s practically impossible to get genuine whole grain anything, I’d be yelling at the Paleo eaters, too. (Don’t bother ‘enlightening’ me about the superiority of your food philosophy in the comments.  I won’t debate it.  It’s a personal choice.  So unless you’ve hired me to be your nutrition coach, I have no business making suggestions.  This is just a blog post, not government intervention.)

My food ‘philosophy’ is based on my understanding that if I fell asleep in the mountains near my home, I would become part of the food chain. I do not expect a bear to stop and reflect on whether it’s appropriate to eat me.


We do the best we can with what we’ve learned. Just don’t bullshit yourself. If you like asparagus, but hate the smell of your pee, don’t stress about it- just flush and walk away. There is no law that says you have to eat asparagus if you don’t like it, but eat other things that are green. There is no law that says you HAVE to put dressing on spinach – grab a handful and munch.

So, let’s recap…

Don’t BS me.  I don’t like it.  I like bears.  And the older I get, it would seem I’m embracing my ‘inner-bear’.

I think I’ll have salmon for dinner.

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