Welcome to 32, the year your metabolism stops. What is it about your 30's that you start noticing so many changes to your body? Your once flat stomach is now a pooch, the laugh lines under your eyes don't go away when you quit laughing, and your butt begins to get droopy and dimply. (Aren't those 2 of the 7 dwarfs?)
The thing that makes it even harder is that I used to have a rock solid metabolism. I used to be able to eat a huge dinner and banana split dessert, and by the time I woke up in the morning, my six-pack was back. As soon as I would eat, you could hear my stomach growling from a mile away as if my body was breaking down the double cheeseburger I had just consumed. I could eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.
Now after 32 years, I have terrible eating habits and I still think I can eat a banana split after every meal. Only now the food baby I go to bed with is still there in the morning, making me look like I'm ready to deliver.
So I grudgingly accept that I now have to work out and watch what I eat, knowing I should feel blessed for the 32 years I didn't have to worry about it. (This could lead me to drinking, if only there weren't so many calories in alcohol.) Dang it!