Call it laudable, call it laughable, but what you read here is written for one reason and one reason only: the betterment of man. One man (or woman) in particular.

You.

Keep that in mind, for I’m about to ask you a question you might otherwise find impertinent. “Do you acknowledge and embrace your own ignorance?”

I ask only because I do and because of the good thing it leads to: a yearning for learning. A strong desire to know more than I already do.

I see it as an absolute blessing that I still feel that way the week after I turned 65. There’s one guy, however, who’s not surprised by that at all: John Wooden, the Hall of Fame basketball coach who led UCLA to nine NCAA championships in 10 years.

He sees it, in fact, as a necessity and says acknowledging and embracing your ignorance regardless of your age is essential, for “when you’re through learning, you’re through.” In this maxim, Wooden’s using “through” to mean “finished.”

I clarify this because in my never-ending quest to learn, there’s one thing I find I need to continually relearn. One thing that gets through to me initially but then leaves me quickly.

That “they” don’t know me. That while the health and fitness experts I read and listen to certainly do know a lot, I’m not necessarily always part of that large quantity.

While my forgetfulness is embarrassing, the real shame would be concealing it, for it’s a forgetfulness that’s universal enough that you too probably fall prey to it. So if I’m really hellbent on the betterment of man, I better admit to what I did on the night of March 5.

Began a list of the changes I needed to make to my mealtimes.

I did so after checking my email and finding a Healthline “Nutrition Edition” newsletter about chronobiology, the “emerging” science that examines “how syncing your meals with your body’s internal clock” leads to a more efficient body metabolism that produces a higher calorie burn and better overall health. Things I’m always hoping for and you probably are, too.

So I read on and found I fall woefully short of following four of the five suggested ways to make your internal clock and your food consumption simpatico. And I do mean woefully.

Suggestion No. 1 is to eat breakfast within one to two hours of waking as a way to stabilize blood sugar. On average, I’m up for at least four before I have anything more than black coffee.

Which means I have no shot at following suggestion No. 2: to “front-load” your calories, “to aim for the bulk of your intake by lunchtime.” Normally before my lunch, which can be as late as 2:00, I’ve consumed fewer than 200 calories.

If lunch is that late, it’s because my workout ran long. But whether it does or doesn’t, I’m not that hungry after a workout, so I rarely consume a lunch of more than 450 calories.

Which means I don’t have a prayer of following suggestion No. 3: to “eat a lighter dinner and to eat your last big meal at least two to three hours before bed.” The two biggest meals I eat each day only fall about one and a half hours apart — and the second one is usually about one hour before I go to bed.

Suggestion four is the one I actually follow: to eat at the same times each day. Two of those times, however, are in direct violation of suggestion No. 5: to limit late-night snacking.

After I read about all of my chronobiology miscues, I put pen to paper and begin the aforementioned list. What caused me to halt after a few minutes, however, is remembering that “they” don’t know me.

So I went online and found the U.S. Navy’s quick way to estimate body fat percentage, a measurement that’s far more accurate than body mass index to determine if you’re currently at a healthy weight. According to the USN, I’m at 11.1 percent, which falls well within the “Excellent” range for my age group — a range that goes as high as 18.3 percent.

And speaking of age, I found an online test that estimates yours biologically. I took it and found that I’m functioning not as if my age is one week past 65 but three months past 51.

After which I crumbled up the aforementioned list and placed it in the wastepaper basket.

In short, what I did on the night of March 5 should serve as notice that it’s just not enough to acknowledge and embrace your own ignorance. You need to recognize that experts are experts in one specific area, an area that you may or may not inhabit.

If you don’t, it won’t do any good to follow what they suggest because even though these experts know a lot, they don’t know a lot about you.