Josh Shear

Back in the beginning of the year, I made a plan to hit a weight loss goal of 15.4 pounds by March 1, which comes to an average of 1.8 pounds per week, or, even more accurately, 0.252 pounds per day over 61 days.

I'm pacing a little short, and by a little, I mean a little. We are 3 weeks into the new year (the first time I weighed myself was Jan. 1, not Dec. 31), and I'm down 4.6 pounds, which is 1.5 pounds per week or .219 pounds per day over 12 days.

I've made a big life change this week. For a lot of people, getting a dog means more activity, since they're getting off the couch and going for a walk, or they're going outside and getting some fresh air instead of hitting the snooze button. For me, the process of getting Rufus adapted to his new environment means less activity; I tend to make my workouts adjacent to my workday (immediately before or immediately after work, since I work at a gym), and in an effort to have him doing his business in appropriate locations, I've been going in as late as I can muster and coming home as soon after work as I can. So, no workouts this past week – I'm doing it all with nutrition. Yes, I realize I could come home, let him out, and go back, but it seems really ridiculous to me, since I'm already there all day (I tend to forgo a lunch break, since I'm snacking throughout my shift anyway).

This week, I'm scheduling some workouts for my workday. I'm actually having people cover parts of my shifts two days so that I can get some exercise. I'll also get back to some quick at-home workouts, now that we have a safe area designated for Rufus and he's good with it.

Onward.

The first time I weighed in during 2011 I weighed 170.8 pounds. The first time I weighed in during 2012 (which was around 5:30 in the morning on New Year's Day), I weighed 160.4 pounds. OK, I get it, 10 pounds in a year is good. But I'm not happy with that, especially since I did a weight loss program in the beginning of the year and dropped almost 30 pounds. I understand that maybe that was a little quick, and it explains why I gained 2/3 of it back.

This year I set a goal of getting to 145 pounds by March 1. That's 15.4 pounds in 60 days, or just under 2 pounds per week.

That's sustainable, and while I could probably drop that 15 pounds more quickly, I want to be able to maintain this year, and still be under 150 at year's end.

Here are some things I'm going to do (other than checking in on the blog occasionally):

• Lose fat, not muscle. This means resistance training mixed with some heavy lifting and high-intensity interval training (HIIT). I think it would be really easy to do a lot of cardio and burn off the weight, but I feel pretty strong and I want to maintain that, perhaps grow it. In that sense, if I don't hit 145 pounds but I get down to 11-12% body fat, cool (I'm probably around 20-22% now).

• Use trackers. I have a DietMinder, and I'm using it. I also love FitDay, which counts my nutrients for me.

• Live a little. Repeat after me: Diets. Don't. Work. You can get on a diet for a little while, but the second you feel like you're "cheating" or you hit your goal, all the results you achieved go out the window. I could pretty easily lose those 15 pounds in 2-3 weeks using a strict low-carb (under 15g or so a day) and high water consumption diet. But you know what? With a goal of 2 pounds a week, I'm going to be able to drink wine (dry red), eat chocolate (moderate amounts of dark), and enjoy the heck out of a Super Bowl party (unless it's a Giants-Broncos thing, then I can't enjoy it at all).

• Try new exercises in my workouts. Know what kicked my butt during my first workout of the year? One-legged deadlifts with a 20-pound dumbbell. I've never incorporated them before, and 10 each leg – done immediately following some one-legged jumping rope (hopping rope?), which was also a first for me – had my quads burning like they haven't in a long time.

• Have people I can check in with. Someone actually asked me yesterday if I could check in with him, call him "fatty" and be mean about it until he gets his act in gear. Done. And Ben, even if I don't comment on every entry, I'm watching you, pal. And there will be a dinner party at some point.

OK, I showed you mine. Show me yours.

Found at 407

I've been happily following Beth's return to blogging this month, and saying "I really should get back to that, too."

I had a great start to National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo for you nerds and search engines out there (hi, Google!)), but gave it up to do things like sleep, eat and poop.

JB scheduled a ladies' night (not coincidentally, I hear there's a film about sparkly vampires who can withstand daylight coming out today; I might have to watch Dusk Til Dawn to make things right), so I decided to schedule time to wipe things off my to-do list.

And this post, about scheduling time for yourself, was the last thing on it. So after I wrap this up, I'm gonna put gas in the car, order some junk food, and wipe out in front of a bad movie. And I'm making this weekend primarily about me (hell, it's my birthday weekend, why not?). I haven't done that in a while, and I've hit some limits, especially where my energy is concerned.

I'm not the only one writing about this this week, so it must be something's going around.

Here's what I'm going to do going forward, and it's something you need to do, too. You know your to-do list? Put you on it. Whether you schedule yourself five minutes of stretching or meditation, a cup of coffee outside, or a few extra minutes to gather your thoughts while you're taking the stairs instead of the elevator, put yourself on your to-do list.

You're going to ignore yourself if you don't – and you're also going to be less efficient and effective with the other stuff on your list.

G'night, interwebz.

Yesterday, a few of us from Civic Engagement volunteered at the American Diabetes Association's Tour de Cure. Diabetes isn't one of my primary causes, but my employer is a national sponsor, so I had easy access to the organizers.

This is a really great event. Rather than a "simple" run or walk or ride, it's five rides – a 100-miler, a 62.5-miler, a 40-miler, a 25-miler and a 15-miler. It requires volunteers at many stages and a whole lot of planning.

From our perspective, it went as smoothly as we could imagine. We got bad directions to the rest stop we were supposed to run, but got there and set up before the first riders came in. We were missing some supplies, but our radio operator (yes, they have someone operating short-wave radios at each stop, in trail vehicles and at the home base) managed to get in touch with home base to get us the stuff we needed in time.

I didn't look up the numbers (the amount raised or the number of people involved), but it was impressive. If you're looking for a way to get involved, I highly recommend the event.

I'm not one for resolutions. Well, I was last year and year before, but it turns out I didn't look back on them at all, make the goals and track them. So I'm looking at this young calendar year, and figuring out what it's going to be.

2010 was a year of upheaval – and let's make it clear that upheaval isn't all bad. I have found a life partner with whom I share a mutual love, support and respect I've never known. For the first time in my life, I've landed in a job I love at a company whose product I am 100% behind. And for the first time since I moved from my parents' house, I'm in a residence I'm not likely to be leaving anytime soon. So 2011 is going to be a year of stability.

It's also going to be a year of passions renewed.

Baseball memorabilia

My dad and I were voracious baseball memorabilia collectors when I was a kid. We would go to card shows at least monthly, I would trade cards with the neighborhood kids, and we were involved in a Strat-O-Matic league.

My parents have started their transition to retirement (it'll be a several-year process, likely), and that includes leaving behind my childhood home. I'm inheriting the collection of cards and publications, and I've started doing some inventory. The publications start in the 1950s (with a couple sporadically before then) and continue into the 2000s; while I haven't seen all the cards yet, they appear to end right around 1990, which is when I entered high school.

So I'm figuring out what's what, and I'm picking that collection back up. I'll fill any holes in the sets, and start looking at what's up in the community these days (I see Donruss has been bought and Fleer is out of business, but that was a quick couple of minutes of not-quite-research).

Reading

I've always been a reader, but here it is January 5, and I've started my third book of the year. I've finished Kaaron Warren's Slights and read Elmore Leonard's Riding the Rap, and I've started Harry Harrison's Make Room! Make Room!

I think there will be some re-reading this year, too – Carlos Ruis Zafon's Shadow of the Wind is on my read-again-soon list, and since I'm already reading a dystopic novel (the Harrison), I'm likely to want to re-read any or all of Yevgeny Zamyatin's We, Aldous Huxley's Brave New World and Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork Orange.

Exercise

I know exercise, fitness and weight loss are on a lot of people's lists. But I'm working at a gym (which means I really have no excuse not to go), I'm already in the midst of some personal training, and on Saturday, I start an intensive weight loss competition.

I'll still be playing tennis and, as spring and summer approach, softball; I'm just hoping to be in better shape.

I'm also planning to do more volunteer work, more fundraising, and continue to be active in the community. By the way, in case you were wondering, these are the organizations I supported in 2010, in case you're looking for causes this year:

• Central New York Community Foundation
• WRVO
• 40 Below
• Syracuse First
• Alchemical Nursery
• St. Baldrick's
• St. Jude

Photo Credits:
• 1985 Topps Roger Clemens baseball card by Tommy Duchniki on Flickr
• Books by Phing on Flickr
• Weights by rick on Flickr

OK, still haven't donated to the Give thanks. Walk.? Watch the video, then read the standard fare below, taking appropriate action. Thanks

Jason has put a ton of effort into organizing a team for this walk, so I'm asking that you donate to his page. If for some reason you'd rather my name be on your donation, here's my page, but I promise they go the same place and Jason should get the credit for the extra work he's put in here.

I'm going to cut the rambling and let the kids do the talking. Watch Dylan's story. It puts a face on why it's all cancer all the time on the blog this week. And now for my standard give 'graph:

Jason has put a ton of effort into organizing a team for this walk, so I'm asking that you donate to his page. If for some reason you'd rather my name be on your donation, here's my page, but I promise they go the same place and Jason should get the credit for the extra work he's put in here.

Fight Childhood Cancer Week continues! Yesterday, we did the what cancer means to you thing. Today, we talk thankfulness. What are you thankful for?

I'm thankful for a lot. I have amazing people around me. I'm employed. I don't have cancer. I have two healthy legs. And I can afford to donate money to charity.

I will be using the healthy legs to walk on Saturday in the Give thanks. Walk. at Carousel Center. I donated $36 to Jason's page (see below). Why $36? Because in the Hebrew language, numbers are represented by letters, and the word meaning "life" represents the number 18. So $36 is a donation to help save two lives.

Jason has put a ton of effort into organizing a team for this walk, so I'm asking that you donate to his page. If for some reason you'd rather my name be on your donation, here's my page, but I promise they go the same place and Jason should get the credit for the extra work he's put in here.

Yesterday, we kicked off Fight Childhood Cancer Week with a little bit about the Give thanks. Walk. Today, we're jumping right in and talking about what cancer means to you. And to me.

I've lost relatives close and distant and friends close and distant to cancer. I've seen, up-close, someone go through chemotherapy, radiation, and a bone marrow transplant. I would never wish any of it on anyone.

About 160,000 children are diagnosed with cancer in the U.S. every year. That number is defeatable. And once we beat cancer in children, we can better understand how to beat cancer in grownups. So start now. And leave your cancer stories in comments either before or after you donate (don't worry, when you click one of those donate links below, it will pop a new window and you won't lose this post).

Jason has put a ton of effort into organizing a team for this walk, so I'm asking that you donate to his page. If for some reason you'd rather my name be on your donation, here's my page, but I promise they go the same place and Jason should get the credit for the extra work he's put in here.

It's the fall edition of Fight Childhood Cancer week on JoshShear.com (that beard thing will be back in the late winter/early spring)! This Saturday (which, coincidentally, is my birthday, which means you have to listen to me here) I'll join Team Jason's Disaster and a bunch of other walking a 5K to raise money for the St. Jude Children's Research Hospital.

The event is called the Give thanks. Walk., and we're stepping off for an organization that picks up the tab for parents if insurance won't cover something.

Jason has put a ton of effort into organizing a team for this walk, so I'm asking that you donate to his page. If for some reason you'd rather my name be on your donation, here's my page, but I promise they go the same place and Jason should get the credit for the extra work he's put in here.