Saturday Soul: One More Lap

There was a time when a Saturday night could feel like the whole world.

For me, that world was Skateland in Waterloo, Iowa.

I can still remember those brown rental skates with the orange wheels. The music bouncing off the walls. The smell of popcorn. The sound of wheels crossing the floor. Parents dropping us off and, for a few hours, giving us what felt like complete freedom.

I was born in 1970, so those late-70s and early-80s nights became part of the soundtrack of growing up. Skateland wasn’t just somewhere we went. It was one of those community places where everybody seemed to pass through sooner or later.

Before Life Got So Full

Back then, I wasn’t thinking about responsibility. I wasn’t thinking about careers, bills, schedules or what came next.

I was just skating.

Then life started moving faster.

Edison Elementary. Central High School. The University of Northern Iowa. Retail. Bandag. Bridgestone Firestone. Motherhood. Work. Family. And all of the ordinary responsibilities that slowly turn into decades.

I wouldn’t trade those years. They made me who I am.

But somewhere along the way, a lot of women learn to put themselves at the bottom of their own list. We get very good at making sure everyone else is okay. We become daughters, wives, mothers, coworkers, caregivers and problem-solvers.

And sometimes we forget the girl who once circled a rink just because it felt good to move.

The Feeling I Remember

When I think about Skateland now, I don’t really miss the building.

I miss the feeling.

Freedom. Music. Laughter. Being completely present without needing to explain it.

That may be one of the gifts of reaching this stage of life. You begin to understand that growing older doesn’t require leaving every earlier version of yourself behind.

Sometimes she is still there, waiting for you to remember her.

A song can do it. A smell can do it. A place can do it. Sometimes even a Taylor Swift song called “August” can suddenly make a memory from an Iowa skating rink feel close again.

Maybe We Get Another Lap

I’ve been thinking lately about what women in our 50s and 60s give ourselves permission to do next.

Not for our children. Not for work. Not because someone needs something from us.

Just because it makes us feel alive.

Maybe it’s traveling. Maybe it’s learning something new. Maybe it’s going back to school, taking a class, starting a business, dancing, skating, running, writing or simply sitting somewhere with a cup of coffee long enough to hear your own thoughts again.

Whatever it is, I think we owe ourselves some of that freedom back.

Not because our responsibilities disappear, but because our lives still belong to us too.

Maybe this season isn’t about slowing down. Maybe it’s about taking one more lap — this time because we choose to.

— Angie Robinson
Saturday Soul