The 1990s in Retrospect

My current favorite song is The Weeknd’s Blinding Lights. I liked it the first time I heard it, and I’ve heard it a lot since then. In the car. In the house. In the grocery store. One of my daughters theorized I probably like it because it sounds like a song from the 80s. 

 

No doubt the 1980s music canon has proven to be far more enduring than the decades that have followed. Don’t believe me, then read this. But, for me at least, the 1990s have shown with time to be my best decade in many other ways. 

 

I hit all of the big adult milestones in the 1980s. I graduated from high school and college, married, had children and launched a long-term career, all before I turned 30. Those were definitely productive years, but I wasn’t at my best. I worked to put myself through college, which led me to move through those four years with omnipresent financial insecurity and full course loads right through my last trimester. Only one friend from college—a roommate—remains on my Christmas card list.  I never lived with my fiancé before we married, so that marital merger was bumpy for the first few years. And any working parent knows those early childrearing years are no walk in the park. 

 

I ran in the 1980s, but never consistently since I worked most hours I wasn’t in class (high school and college). I wouldn’t say those runs were relaxing; they mainly were my only form of exercise and socialization because women rarely ran alone back then. OB/GYNs at that time admonished women who ran during pregnancies, so I didn’t. And, being a military wife, I had very limited time to run while raising babies, often alone and always far from any family. When I did go for a run, it felt weird, like a luxury I didn’t deserve. 

 

By contrast, in my 30s I thrived in my chosen field and aced graduate school. My children were older and more self-sufficient. I developed a reputation for quality work no matter the project. And the friends I acquired in those years remain loyal and present to this day. Those also were the years I began to take running seriously and entered road races and eventually a string of marathons. I look at pictures of me back then and wonder why I ever complained about my weight or hair.  

 

The music, though, wasn’t that memorable. I mean, when Ace of Base or The Cranberries come on the radio, I don’t feel a rush of nostalgia. I ran without technology during that decade. And I ran alone both in training and races. My running served multiple purposes: keeping me fit, mentally sharp and sane. I had my share of IT band pain from picking the wrong running shoes or ramping up miles too quickly. But compared to the injuries that followed, this was as good as it gets. 

 

This isn't to say I'm stuck in an era long gone. It's just that no one knows when they peak until years pass and goals fall off, sometimes memories too. I'm grateful for those years and especially the friendships that developed from them. We all slow down at some point, but it doesn't mean we can't still dream big and plan for outstanding outcomes. It might take us longer to reach those finish lines, but the feeling when we do is what carries us forward. 

Photo above courtesy of my friend Tracy, taken at a 1990s race somewhere in southeastern Virgina.