Sweating in the City

Seattlle weather finally dissipated yesterday and we were treated to our first taste of summer in all its humid glory. I didn't hear too many complaints. Off came the fleece and rain shoes; on came the tank top and sandles.

Harry and I did a little retailing before heading to Gyro II, my favorite place for gyros since 1978. Then we steeled ourselves and went to the DMV. Harry's license expired when he turned 18 and he got a temporary one in December. The new one never made it to New York, and when I tried to call the RI-DMV, I got busy signals and hang-ups. So, armed with every document Harry possesses, we anxiously entered the land of barking DMV workers who have as much sympathy for their fellow humans as a tiger eviscerating its helpless prey.

We waited on line for an hour. Harry gave in his form, his temporary license (now also expired), his social security card and birth certificate. The clerk asked for Harry's RI driving record (whoops). We didn't have that doc. I suggested we use the orignal expired license and he agreed. Then he asked for a student ID and grades (!), a credit card (which he doesn't have) and something else. I suggested that perhaps his medical insurance card would do. Bingo! Another hour of waiting and we were finally called to a window to finish up the transaction.

The woman left for a minute--that made me nervous. When she returned, she asked Harry if he was 18. Duh, it only says it on the skatey eight pieces of ID he turned in. It was then we realized she was hearing impaired. She couldn't tell if a number was a 1 or a 7, and in addition to her speech being incomprehensible, she had a difficult time hearing what we said. To ask for payment, she presented us with a card that had the amount on it. I charged it, Harry got his temporary license and we were on our way, 2 hours later.

Two hours isn't such a bad wait. The DMV has streamlined its process over the years. The workers are the same, probably due to genetics.

We arrived home to find the water was still off (the tank was being replaced). I'd filled pots with water, so we were okay. I've certainly survived days without water before. I thought I'd have time to relax before my first workout with Team In Training, but I had to get to 72nd and Cenral Park so I had no choice but to grab a bottle of water, change and go. I decided to jog there. In a few blocks, I had a wardrobe malfunction--my bra unzipped. I dashed into a store and asked to use a dressing room. The clerk was amused. I arrived at the meeting spot 10 minutes late and they had already left for their warm-up run. I was all warmed up and ready to go.

We did some cross-training exercises, some stretching and some yoga poses, which I was pretty good at. I never did meet my team (there were hundreds of people there training for various events all over the country) but I did receive my TNT jersey which says New York City Chapter on front. That was a proud moment for me. I thought, I'm home.