Having My Cake And Not Eating It, Too

I spent a few fabulous days at Fitbloggin’ a couple of weeks ago doing a lot of talking about my blog. About how I started it and why. About what it did for me and why. About how other people’s successful journeys steeled my will to set off on my own voyage.



Like most everything, this site has morphed and mutated over time. Most days it’s just an exercise in weight-loss-related silliness (with a thimble full of wise-ass wisdom so I’m not kicked off the bus).



I’m not trying to apologize for representing the lighter side of this whole tryng-to-get-fit frittata, because I honestly think it’s kind of important to crack a smile when you have a long road in front of you.

It’s not even one of those “you gotta laugh to keep from crying” things either; you just gotta laugh because... well... we’re still here and that, if nothing else, that’s a good enough reason to chuckle.



But all this introspection got me looking at my own story and marveling at the juice this place had when I was rockin’ and rollin’ with my healthy self. There was a time, believe it or not, when this site was slanted more to the “Gettin’ Fit” side of my blogitty-blog’s name than the “Jack Sh*t” one.



So I expect this site to take a slight turn back to what pulled me into this world to begin with. Don’t fret... there will still be plenty of gags and goofs (and probably a return of the Jack Sh*t Players now that our contract dispute has finally been settled), but I also hope... and expect... to see a return to my roots.



I want to see Jack Sh*t gettin’ fit again.