Through a Runner’s Eyes

“So often we can get caught up in the rankings, times, personal bests and competitions that we forget about the true joy and life changing experiences that our sport provides. Running is about a journey, a journey that engages an entire community and culture, yet inwardly transforms the mind, spirit, and body.”

“The race will begin in one minute,” the megaphone’s words reverberated in my ears. The early morning summer air was thick and seemed to hang low, making it difficult to breath even at a standstill. I was surrounded by a sea of experienced runners. I had only been training for three months and felt like a fish out of water. I glanced down at my phone in an effort to conceal the fact that I was a newcomer, Could they tell? I wondered. My stomach churned as I looked around at the other runners who were chatting and smiling with one another. The anticipation of uncharted waters was both exciting and nerve racking. I turned up the music on my phone and took a deep breath … BANG!

The crowd steadily moved forward like a cattle drive. I kept my head down and shuffled along within the close confines of the other runner’s shoulders. Within a couple minutes, I was able to break out into open space and pick up my speed to a more deliberate pace. As the nervous energy freed itself through my quickening limbs, my confidence rose and I fixed my attention on the road ahead allowing my thoughts to drift back to the beginning.

To begin a journey, first you must be inspired ~

Peering out the window, I could see the dark gray clouds hanging in the overcast sky. Another dreary, frigid winter morning, I thought as I shuffled into the kitchen and pressed “brew” on the coffee pot, hoping to find a little sunshine in the bottom of my snowman mug. The house looked so bare now that the Christmas tree was gone. All the holiday parties were over and I could feel the holiday humdrums settling in. With coffee in one hand and cell phone in the other, I snuggled into the corner of the couch and pulled a blanket over my legs. I scanned thoughtlessly through facebook in an effort to distract myself from dismal thoughts… then something caught my eye. A picture of my friend Nicole standing in front of Cinderella Castle wearing a fluffy yellow tutu and a huge smile on her face. She had just finished running in one of Disney’s Princess races. The sun shone so brightly in the picture that I swear I began to feel warmer just looking at it.

An instant yearning stirred within me and if I was being honest with myself, it was mixed with a bit of jealousy too. I sat up and immediately texted her wanting to hear everything about it and already conceiving my own tutu and tiara experience.

It was that cold, dreary morning in February of 2014 when I first became smitten with the idea of lacing up a pair of running shoes and heading out the door to earn my tiara. What I didn’t know was, what I just thought would be a fun, novel event to participate in, would actually help me find love again… love for myself and a new found life. I had not only become immersed in my daughter Rebekah’s activities over the past eight years, but there had been a quiet storm brewing and dark clouds were rolling in. I was unknowingly preparing for it.  By that following March of 2015 my marriage was in obvious trouble and by the end of June he had moved out and reconciliation was no longer a consideration.

Making the commitment~

I pressed submit on my laptop, officially committing to running in the runDisney Princess 5k and 10k race, yet I hadn’t even attempted to run one mile in 20 years. What’s three miles, I thought. Six is a little intimidating, but three should be no problem. I unearthed the shoebox that held the $25.00 clearance ASICS from under my bed and slipped them on while thinking of Cinderella and her first pair of glass slippers.

Stepping onto the front porch into the morning July sun, I felt invigorated. The plan was to run one mile; I set my timekeeper app and took off in full confidence. After what felt like a good stretch of time, my legs began to feel so heavy, as if Cinder Blocks were attached to my ankles. My heart was beating against my chest like a caution signal flashing warning. I looked down at my watch to see how long I had been running, “60 seconds!” I gasped aloud. I was going to have to ease into this running thing. I mentally revised my plan to a run/walk strategy and completed the three miles with less finesse than I anticipated.

Though I felt like a car that ran out of gas, there was an excitement stirring within me. I walked the rest of the way home to cool down and plot my new plan of action. If I was going to do this, I wanted to do it right. Kristin Banse, an Access Physical Therapy & Wellness team member says, “Recognize that as you fatigue, your form is more likely to be compromised. Usually when a runner’s form is compromised mechanical stress increases and injury can soon
follow.”

The thrill of a new challenge had me completely engaged. Every morning after I sent Rebekah to school I would take off to conquer those miles. My morning runs became a part of my day that I looked forward to. Getting out in the open air and stretching my legs felt so freeing. Listening to the sound of my heartbeat and the rhythm of my breathing would almost set me into a hypnotic state that helped me to pace myself through the miles. I was now comfortably running without any walk breaks and closing in on that 10k mileage goal, I felt unstoppable.

I had to submit an official race time to runDisney, so I found a local race for my test run. This would be a great time to try out my newfound race legs. Adorning a pair of pink Minnie ears for a little Disney inspiration, I set out at 7 a.m. that morning a bundle of nerves, not knowing what to expect. With the sound of the starting pistol, the crowd inched forward. I had never run alongside anyone, so it took a moment to adjust to my surroundings.

Once I broke free from the confines of the crowd, I was able to release the tension I had been carrying that morning and settle into a comfortable pace. The humidity hung on my limbs like heavy wet rags and the climate of my mouth mimicked that of a desert. There were spectators lining the village streets and neighborhoods, calling out words of encouragement, cheering us on toward the finish line. The sound of their voices and clapping hands infused me with the fortitude I needed to climb the winding hills. The faint sound of music found its way to my ears.

As I rounded the corner the triumphant sight of FINISH, spelled out in large letters hung high in the air. It triggered my muscles to exert the last bit of stamina I had. The moment my feet crossed the finish line, a feeling of bliss came over me. It was like an official stamp of approval to confirm my achievement, an unmatched sense of accomplishment and I wanted more. My attention was instantly focused on Rebekah as she threw her little arms around my waist and squeezed tight. “You did it Mommy!” she said with as much excitement as if she had run the race herself.

A tutu, a tiara and my favorite mouse Mickey ~

The anticipated day had come, my plan was executed and I was off to the Princess Races with a larger than life red tutu and a sparkly silver tiara, direct from China for $5.99. I had been to Disney dozens of times, but never for such an occasion as this. Nicole and two of her friends greeted me at the Orlando Airport and from there we were off and running to Disney World for our coronation.

The following morning we boarded our coach bus at 4 a.m. and headed to Epcot for the 5k race. The night sky had not yet given way to the sunrise, leaving the air damp and brisk. Florida was having unseasonably cold temperatures, barley hovering over 32 degrees. With only a thin pair of running shorts under my tutu, I shivered for an hour and a half in the corrals with more than 15,000 other princesses. Suddenly, fireworks burst into the dark sky, signaling the release of the first corral. Each corral received the same send off, lighting the pathway for the thousands of runners.

As we raced down the Disney highways, every runner in sight seemed to be dressed in their Disney best, paying homage to their favorite characters. It wasn’t long before the sun began to rise and crest the calming waterways as we came upon the Boardwalk Resort. The sound of hundreds of running shoes thumped along its wooden planked walkways. The atmosphere permeated with joy; I was having the time of my life in the company of so many others that were seemingly doing the same. It was all going too fast. No matter how many times we stopped to take pictures with characters or take a longer route, the end was nearing quickly.

Alas, the end of the course was just ahead, as we flew into World Showcase for a runner’s tour around the world. Germany… Italy… Japan… Morocco… France… United Kingdom and Canada! The countries went by in a flash, all for the price of a single airfare ticket. The third mile marker was just ahead and I felt like I had just started the race. Crossing this finish line was in some way different. The thrill of completing the course was not at the forefront this time around. It was the spirit of the adventure that added another layer of enthusiasm to my newfound love, along with the camaraderie of like-minded people. I had one more race to run the next morning and I couldn’t wait!

 

 

I departed my Disney weekend and arriving back home with a deeper desire for more adventure and ready to push myself to the next level – 13.1 miles.

Finding strength and purpose~

Shortly after I arrived back in New York, those storm clouds were hovering overhead. Life at home was very tense and it was getting increasingly difficult to deny the inevitable. I found myself in my running shoes more often than not, searching for direction and a sense of peace. My struggles at home seemed to parallel the obstacles I encountered while attempting to meet my physical goals. Some days my wandering thoughts of the unknown would completely zap my strength and keep me from my morning runs, but the down times never lasted too long. As my life evolved, I had to evolve with it.

I set my focus on training for my first half marathon. I could not allow my personal circumstances to interfere with my progress and despite all the discord; I was motivated more than ever. I posted a message on my Facebook page in search of a running buddy. I felt a bit silly and wondered what others would think about my inquiry; it was like I was placing an ad for a new friend. Within hours, I had responses from people I hadn’t seen since high school; they had caught the running bug too. We scheduled times and locations to meet up.

This helped me to expand my mileage and my sights outside of my neighborhood. I was craving new scenery and suddenly wanted to explore every nook and cranny of the Hudson Valley. I sought out several rail trails, finding each one unique to its area. Some were dirt paths amongst acres of farmland and cow pastures and others paved pathways that ran alongside streams and lush woodlands. I ran beside the Hudson River, following it over bridges. I ran through state parks and town parks, gardens and winding country roads. The Hudson Valley never looked as beautiful as it did through my eyes as a runner. It was as if I was seeing my home of 43 years, with a new pair of eyes. I started photo journaling my travels and created a blog called Running to My Life. I was now, more than ever, running with a purpose.

A fellow runner told me that the psychological aspect of running is indicative to running away from the things in life that you don’t want to face. This is not so for me; I am running toward my life and pushing the limits that I have consciously set for myself. When asked about the benefits of running, Dr. Jill Sussman, an Advanced Practice Nurse in Adult Psychology commented,  “Exercise, especially running, has a profound effect on our emotional and physical well-being. It is an effective tool for stress, anxiety, depression and self-esteem. Bottom line, it can just make you feel good,”

I not only added the element of scenery but also community. By entering local races, I engaged more fully within my community. I ran races for Homeless Veterans, Safe Harbors, United Way, Toys for Tots and local police departments to name a few. With each race, I met people that also shared a love for running- some of which became my good friends. They had a wealth of knowledge and shared their experiences of fueling for long runs, speed training and how KT Tape could be a runner’s best friend. In heeding their advice, I started placing within my age division and bringing home medals and trophies. Somehow, my simple plan to be a princess for a weekend set me on a path toward a more engaging life.

No Limitations~

It had been four months since I arrived home from the princess races and I was ready to carry out my 13.1-mile goal. I stepped out of the car and set my feet onto the pavement of the Marist College parking lot. This was the starting point for the Walkway of the Hudson Half Marathon 2015. I was there with two of the friends I had met through my Facebook post inquiry. We followed a walkway to the top of a grassy hill that provided a stunning view of the river that I have run alongside so many times. Looking out over the water, I thought about the past year’s events. It was just one year prior that I had attempted to run my very first mile, now I was about to run 13. I wasn’t terribly nervous; I felt prepared, determined and ready.

The crowd quieted for the national anthem and then the sound of the starter pistol shot through the air. It was an uphill run right from the start; this is what I trained for, I assured myself. I kept my eyes focused on the ground and paced myself accordingly. I noticed people veering off to the side in order to catch their breath.

By mile three, the ground finally leveled and we turned onto a narrow dirt trail, but now the course was cramped and hard to keep a steady pace without weaving and bobbing through the masses.

It was around the sixth mile and my body was starting to feel taxed from the rising heat and humidity, then…  I felt a disturbing twinge in my right knee. Immediate thoughts of not being able to finish, raced through my mind. I pulled my attention back to the trail and envisioned crossing the finish line with arms held high in victory; I was already halfway there.

About the ninth mile, all I could think about was how exhausted and hot I felt; I was miserable. It was mile 10 and I had finally made it to the bridge. I gazed out over the water and down the long winding river that was nestled between the mountains. Inhaling deeply, I fixed my eyes on the blurred distant trail, but keeping my renewed vision in focus.

Just as I heard a volunteer announce that there were, only three miles left to go, my knees started to lock up. I can do this, I assured myself.

The remaining two miles were laden with taxing inclines; just as I reached the crest of one, another was there waiting. Delirium was setting in, as I truly began to wonder if there was an end to this course.

As I approached a darkened underpass, I could see people lined along the sides cheering and shouting, “YOU’RE ALMOST THERE!” A chill ran from the bottom of my feet, straight to the top of my head. Whether it was from excitement or heat exhaustion, I don’t know, but I knew at that point I had made it.

Crossing that 13.1-mile finish line with my arms held high above my head, I felt like I had won a long, difficult battle.

When I think back to the day I attempted to run my first mile, I will never forget my feelings of uncertainty, nor will I forget the exhilarated feeling of achievement. Running undoubtedly has become the most effective tool for showing me what I am really made of. It has proved that I can push through barriers and view struggles as mere obstacles that are meant to be hurdled. Running makes me strong, empowered, accomplished and an awesome role model for my daughter. As the miles accumulate, so does my desire for more. Next stop, 26.2 miles!

Finding Strength in the Unknown~

As I go about my day… the feeling of loneliness tries to creep in– but I ignore it knowing that something has changed in me these past weeks.  I am starting to feel the strength of knowing who I am again. The calmness and peace of truly knowing who you are in this world and what you have to offer is nothing short of a gift.  As I sit in the silence of my home sipping a glass of chardonnay and eating left over chicken salad for dinner, I listen to the sounds of spring; the melody of frogs chirping and croaking outside my open window brings an immense sense of peace and calmness. Not wanting for anything in this moment, I know that my true self is slowly emerging into place.

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It has been a long two weeks; I don’t ever want to feel even the remanence of emotions that my past has evoked, though it was a necessity for me to feel every last bit that had haunted me within. When you choose not to distract yourself with false monetary pretenses, it is then that the lessons you are meant to learn in life show themselves in the light that you need to see and feel them. There are times when you are amidst these lessons that you feel there is no possible way you will ever be whole again, but it is also at those most intense times that change is occurring deep within your being; it is important to know and hold on to the knowledge of this.

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Though my most recent changes have been the onset of this raw and all-encompassing  emotional state, it is these changes that have freed me to seek out who I am, where I belong and to accomplish in this life what I have been predestined to. –“Woman must come of age by herself. She must find her center alone.” – Anne Morrow Lindbergh

I do feel that the path we take in life creates who it is we are meant to be– though I can’t help but to wonder if some of the choices I made while traveling my path has prolonged the arrival of my destination. Destination – is there a final destination? I think I am now learning that there is not and furthermore, that there is not meant to be one. I have been on a search since I can remember, for something to grab hold of me and give me that feeling that I have arrived at the right destination. I am finally realizing and taking hold of the true meaning of a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson, “Life is a journey, not a destination.” I find peace and excitement within these words. The fulfillment of not knowing what is going to happen and the endless possibilities that this notion creates is enough to launch me leaps and bounds ahead of where I was just one short year ago. I am grateful for my resilience and dedication to press on through all the discomfort and confusion and to be able to arrive at this very place.

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As the warmer weather has been ushered in by the onset of spring, I realize through the winter there was a sense of renewal taking place. Each year as winter approaches the trees shed themselves of their leaves so in spring their renewed beauty has a place to reveal itself and so it is with me, through this winter I was shedding my old self  to bring forth the renewed beauty of who I am becoming.

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So here I am as Memorial Day weekend is approaching, a time when families and friends gather to enjoy one another’s company. I have been on the pursuit this whole week to find a place to fit in so I don’t feel the absence of what this weekend is about to bring, a feeling of loneliness.  My Rebekah is with her father, my parents are out of town and my friends are preoccupied with their own life’s challenges. Having an evening alone is a welcomed thought, but enduring a holiday weekend for four days and nights without plans goes against my grain. I have settled into the notion that this is for a purpose; I am learning and practicing to trust the process of life. I have changed my mindset to embrace this time to have a more deepened sense of self- by myself. Becoming honest with me and trusting life’s process to guide me has been an incredibly difficult feat. My past has taught me the need to challenge and control- but within that there was a sense of responsibility that was exhausting and uncomfortable, like swimming upstream against the current. In letting go of this need to predestine my time, I am learning to feel content with not knowing. My openness to an unscheduled life is an olive branch extended toward learning to trust life, myself,others, and God.

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I will end with a quote from the book I am reading, A Year by the Sea – by Joan Anderson, “When one is freshly informed, has a serendipitous experience, one’s mood is changed. That is why taking time to see, hear, be present to images and language that arises from new experiences have the power to change one from one way to another.” – Clarissa Pinkola Este’s

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Live well xo

 

 

 

The Next and Biggest Step in my Journey ~ Meeting my Inner Child

“It’s a journey”, I repeatedly tell myself, “A journey I need to take if I am ever going to rid myself of this debilitating pain of shame and loneliness.”

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It’s been a while since I last posted and I wanted to share some of the substantial milestones I have been hurdling. I have been on a journey of self-discovery for most of my adult life and my most recent significant change has sparked an immediate deluge of familiar and unsettling feelings. For those that have been following the portion of my blog, ‘My Personal Journey in Life ’, know my marital status has changed. Not to sound cynical, but it has been one of the best and most significant changes for me. It has allowed me to break free from a life that was not meant for me and in return is helping me to transform into the individual I want to be and meant to be. Without change there is no progress and as I grow older in years I have come to welcome change with open arms, no matter what form it appears in. Change means renewing and a renewing of one’s spirit is a beautiful thing.

I have always carried a feeling of loneliness and shame deep within me for as long as I can remember. I came to understand these feelings as I got older as the absence of a relationship, the scarcity of acceptance and lack of love from my biological father. Little did I know how long and how bitterly it would affect my life.

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Thinking back I believe I started showing outward signs of his physical and emotional absence in my early 20’s. My dating relationships were affected by my clinginess. Not all of them, just particular ones that possessed a quality that brought about insecurities I didn’t quite understand at that time. These chosen few would touch a cord within me that would bring to the forefront my deep wounds. I would inwardly and outwardly feel scared, alone, abandoned and shameful. The relationship would end because I would self-destruct unknowingly and unaware of what I was truly doing.

My mid 20’s brought about the introduction of panic attacks and an eating disorder as I was wildly grasping for control in my life; at this point I had no clue how to heal myself or really what was fueling me to feel that I  might be mildly insane. Always having such a deep need to understand myself and a desire for peace within my soul, I finally sought out counseling. After several visits with several counselors I found a wonderful woman that helped me begin my journey of self-discovery and healing.

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It was about a couple years later when I met my husband at my place of employment. He was 9 years younger than I. At this time in my life I was feeling pretty darn good. I had purchased my own home and was feeling quite independent and happy. We began dating and it wasn’t too long after that we were engaged and getting married. When he proposed I was neither ready nor sure that I wanted to take this monumental step with him, but I did. I didn’t want to crush him, he was very fragile and in retrospect that made me feel strong. He needed someone to take care of him and I unknowingly fell into the role of needing to take care of someone. This was proof that my journey of healing my wounds was long from over. For thirteen years I covered up my wounds and hid them where they were not visible and I created a strong facade. This is what my husband needed and this was a way for me to avoid dealing with the pain within me that I was not yet ready to face. To further my denial, I crafted a shield so thick and strong it could not be penetrated by him or even me. I learned early on before I said, “I do”, that I needed to guard myself from my husband. My inner conscience knew that if I left myself vulnerable and exposed to him, he would rip me to shreds (to his credit – he too had open exposed wounds and never meant me any harm), so I protected myself never allowing him to see my most vulnerable side. I had already endured enough pain and that was the best and only way I knew to protect and heal myself at that time.

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Here I am fourteen years later, picking up where I left off. I am still learning how to heal these open and exposed wounds that were formed from the very beginning of my existence. I have just recently been introduced to my inner child; she has decided it is safe to come out from hiding. She is one scared, lonely, shameful little girl. It saddens me that the bright spirit of this beautiful little girl would be so weighted down by things she never had control over, things that were never her fault. How horrible for anyone to experience such anxious, distressed feelings. She has reached out to me so many times, but I have repeatedly ignored her and this made her retreat. She didn’t trust me enough to show me her pain or trust I would accept her and believe her and protect her. I am so relieved to have finally gained her trust and we are working together to heal these open wounds.

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I have learned these wounds cannot be healed by any friend or romantic relationship, meaning there is not one person that can fill the gaping hole that was left within me. This took me 24 years to understand and accept. Trying to find someone or something to fill this emptiness was just another way of avoiding the pain and acceptance I needed to face. I now accept that my soul is wounded, that I unnecessarily feel ashamed and guilty for things I never did, that I am angry, truly angry for such an injustice, and for the deep sense of loneliness I have endured. The only way for me to heal these wounds is to become a parent of this little girl that was left to feel abandoned by someone that was supposed to love her unconditionally. I will now insure she knows that she is no longer alone, she no longer needs to feel ashamed for being left alone, and that she did nothing wrong.

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I am not sure how much longer my journey will take, but I’m not giving up, I have gotten this far and that little girl is depending on me and I refuse to let her down. I feel like I have climbed a mountain and have reached the top, “I made it! I pushed through! What a sense of accomplishment! I know I can continue and I will.”

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Life is beautiful but there are some not so beautiful things that happen in life. It is up to us to push through the things that are not so beautiful and to create beauty where there once was not. The feeling of freedom of a life lived without armor, without fear or shame is attainable if you continue to push through the uncomfortable, painful barriers until you reach the finish.

I share these overwhelmingly very personal trials, experiences, and moments with the world in hopes it will benefit and support others that may be going through similar journeys. I am not embarrassed by my journey because it was meant for me to take ……..and I truly believe, to share as well.

“Share what you know, be generative and pass it on” Joan Erikson

Before I end, I want to thank some very giving, loving, and selfless people that have supported and ministered me to continue to push forward and through – for encouraging me and ensuring me that I deserved understanding, and never lost faith that I would never give up.

Thank you Mommy, Aunt Patty, Vivian, my belated Nanny for loving me like every Grandmother should love their grandchild- as if they are flawless, and to my new friend that has been an amazing support, a breath of fresh air and who came into my life just at the right moment– your friendship is one I will cherish always ~ xo

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Aunt Patty- Nanny- and my Mommy

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Me and my Nanny

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Maureen ~ xo

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Into the Woods We Went!

This past weekend Rebekah and I took an impromptu trip to the movie theater, what did we see….. Into the Woods!

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We hurried into the theater and found our seats just as the movie trailers were ending. I had no idea what to expect from this movie. I hadn’t read or heard the reviews, with one exception. Right before entering the theater Nicole informed me that her friends had walked out during the movie; oh boy what was I in for?

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The movie began, I quickly realized it was a musical, I had no idea! As we began to travel into the woods with the characters, it took me a while to truly realize why “we” were going into the woods. At first I was solely focused on these strange intertwined fairytales. Each fairytale character was traveling into the woods for a particular purpose – to break a spell, to go to the Festival, to sell the cow, to Grandmother’s house, to see the King.  As the movie rolled on I realized there was a deeper meaning and an actual plot.  ‘Into the Woods’ is a metaphor for taking a journey outside of the boundaries one has set for themselves, taking chances to experience more of what life may have to offer. While the initial reason these characters took the journey into the woods was to find something that was so enticing and important to them, they learned unexpected lessons along the path of the wood and what their true desires may have been after all. The path that appeared so straight and definitive became twisted and questionable.intothewoods-bar640

The wood appears in many fairytales; it’s a place of the unknown and it’s full of mystery. The Woods are not thought to be “safe”, they have unexpected twists and turns. Stepping into the Woods could change one’s life; it’s a journey that could bring about a new ending to one’s story.  And so we see this in many of Disney’s fairytale stories, just this time these happy endings were more similar to what you and I might experience in our own lives.  In hindsight I wished I had read the movie commentary so I would have been more focused on the song lyrics. These stories told through song were in direct reflection to personal struggles many of us go through in life.

What did Rebekah think of the movie?  I was really worried that she was not enjoying the movie, but I didn’t breathe a word until we were walking out of the theater and back to the car.  She thought it was a bit strange; she was not use to seeing Disney fairytales in any other light than the animated version. But then she began to tell me how she loved that everyone was singing and she thought it was all rather funny. Her favorite characters were Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, Jack and the Baker and his wife. She added that she would not recommend anyone under the age of eight to see the movie, well maybe a seven year old if they were mature for their age.

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 I would absolutely like to see the movie again. I am sure that I missed many details that I would enjoy witnessing the second time around.  The cast I thought were magnificent and made each roll very believable. There was some adult content but it definitely went over Rebekah’s head. I do think it is important to understand the rhythm of the movie before viewing it; it will enhance the experience and allow you to connect and identify with the characters on a deeper level.

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