The Year of Change

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!