Women Who Run with Knives

I wanted to get my knives sharpened and I wanted to go for a run, and it was getting latish in the day and I didn't had time to do one and then the other and still get to soup swap and finish moving boxes around. And that's how great ideas are born.

I wrapped up my knives in several layers of newspaper, and then in a canvas bag, and then I put on my running shoes and headed out to the park. I mean, what could go wrong?

I'm just messing with you. Nothing went wrong at any point (get it? point?) in this adventure. I ran to Park Slope to drop off my knives to get sharpened, and I ran back without the knives. And all I got was this lousy blog post. And a couple of jokey free associations. Like with Running with Scissors, which I read and obsessed over back when it came out.

And later when I told my soup swap friends, they free associated to Women Who Run With the Wolves, which I have never read, and don't even really know what it is except that I just looked it up to link to it and I see that it's about women and mythology, which in theory should be incredibly interesting to me (I wrote my undergraduate BA thesis on feminist Wicca) but in reality (or my projection of reality) seems like I'd run away quickly from it (maybe while holding 5 dulled sharp knives?)

I think this is one of the weirder blog posts I've ever written, but it's actually instructive in terms of taking pure selfish joy time for myself—in that I tend to be a person who is OK combining unusual activities, colors, or people, and when I do, I am often delighted with the surprising combinations.
And while I might not be describing the particular delight I took in running with knives, it does make me smile to have done—and written about—something for which I must admonish: don't try this at home.