Worth level? Mightyman Montauk is a local triathlon to get your feet wet (well clearly not for me). The small number of participants makes the event very manageable and the entry fee is relatively cheap. The course is scenic with rolling hills on both the bike and run. Other than the early morning, temperature during the majority of the race is temperate. The beach town and surrounding Hamptons area is small enough for a weekend trip. However, it definitely lacks sponsors, unless Tate's Cookies is your thing. The event organizations also didn't offer much other than a shirt and post race bagels. Unfortunately, the course doesn't have full road closures and there is definitely a lack of signage indicating exactly where you were on the course.

"I want to do an Ironman" said my best friend when I visited her for her senior night basketball game. "Why don't we let your body recover for a bit after graduation," interjected her mother. She was then subjugated to a stationary bike watching her team practice from the side lines due to a slew of longstanding injuries: stress fracture on the foot, a pulled shoulder, and a torn ALC from her first year. Being a crucial player granted her a starter spot to play in games, but her body was clearing indicating that the relentless collegiate sport schedule was taking a toll on her body. I wouldn't call a half Ironman- a 6-hour, grueling, body-battering sport- the recommended recovery plan. It definitely would put the "active" in an active recovery plan. But, who am I to hinder an athlete's retirement bucket list. And wait, doing a triathlon actually sounds pretty fun. I cycle..and run..and could possibly relive my childhood swim lesson days. Well, maybe minus the crying, freezing in an outdoors pool in the winter, and the scent of chlorine and bleach.

But I do have a road bike. I really nice Cannondale Supersix Evo Ultegra to be exact. It may as well live up to its categorization as a race bike and actually be entered into a race. Nice bike ✅  Everything Else ?

Look! New York has this massive triathlon event in the city. wait what? Events slots already sold out 6 months ago, unless I want to raise $2,5000 for charity entry. Sounds like another version of the friends and family fundraising round, let's save that for when I need it to start a business. So far I've gotten that there are different distances and different sanctioned events. Ironman?USAT? More like they definitely did not sat. Cool instagram places? Definitely the summers in Idaho, Tennessee, and Atlanta, if I'm not melting in the heat. 

After too much time spent on the interwebs, I finally decided on Mightyman Montauk slated for October 1, 2017 based on my most important criteria:

• Saves money i.e. Gotta pay for the New York rent

1. 1. Local to New York City. I definitely didn't want the added complication of checked bags, flights, etc. for my first triathlon. Saves me hassle and money.
   2. A cheaper entrance fee. It was already well into the triathlon season and entrance fees increase as it get closer to the event. Ironman sanctioned and more publicized events will cost more. I didn't need a [Iron]man to make me happy.

• Provides enough time i.e. Ain't nobody got time for that  Gotta make time for that

1. 1. Far enough that provided ample training time with some buffer. I opted for 4 months and searched online triathlon training programs. I opened this program provided by NSPCC and RG Active more times everyday than facebook or instagram. Well maybe.

I spent the next 4 months at Equinox, riding my fixie to and from work as cross-training, and pumping money into the economy. If you don't believe me, look at my break down below.

2015
	Race bike	~$3,000
	Modified spinning shoes	~$70
2017
Feb	Running shoes	~$60
May	Helmet	~$30
June	Mightyman Moutauk Entrance Fee	$186.50
June	Hotel Reservations	$430.80
June	Training swim suit	$30
June	Swimming Cap	$10
July	Triathlon Wetsuit	$225
Sept	Triathlon Kit (triathlon shorts, sleeveless aero and sleeved aero jersey)	$180
Sept	Elastic Shoe Laces	$8
Sept	Race Belt (white elastic + white velcro)	$6
Oct	USAT Day Pass	$15
Oct	Bike Rental	$108

Things I didn't pay for
TT bike	~$3000
Tri Club Membership	~$400
Sports Watch	~$300
Clip on aero bars	$40
Manufactured Race belt	$13
Bodyglide	$8

I did try and skimp out on certain items that I didn't think were imperative. For example, a sports watch would've been nice and flashy. The inundation of data would not have made me a pro triathlete  by my first event, so I passed on that. To save money, I tracked July 4th and Labor day sales, browsed and guessed for coupon codes, and took full advantage of Paragon's annual warehouse sale. All geared out with the lightest gear combos and a substantially lighter wallet, I was speeding towards the faithful triathlon race day.

A couple days before the race, my bike broke. My bike broke 2 days before my race. The race bike that was finally supposed to fulfill its calling never made it. The bike's carbon drop out, where the derailleur hanger connected to the cassette splintered. It was this tiny one inch piece of carbon attached to the rear wheel that deemed the bike now useable. WHAT?! Wasn't carbon supposed to be really strong? There goes my $3,000 dollar bike and I'm not bikeless. So I scrambled to find another bike. My boyfriend called every single bike shop to see if there was anything I could rent this close to the race. Shop after shops, no carbon bikes, no aero bikes, nothing that was close to caliber I was looking for. The only bike I could rent was a whatever the shop has left. I mean at least, I think I have a bike?

As I was still packing up my stuff and headed to dinner the day before driving to Montauk for check-in, I get an email from the events organizers stating, "We are sorry to annouce that we have to cancel the swim for the MightyMan Sprting, Olympic and Half Iron Distance Triathlon..."

The perfect storm. I now have a triathlon with the bike situation up in the air and where athletes that are barred from stepping into the water. Next thing I know the roads are going to be under construction. Kidding. Just kidding but almost.

At this point, there was nothing I could do. If the triathlon powers wanted my first triathlon to be this way. There was nothing I could do. The next morning, my significant other and I loaded the bags and gear into a small black hatchback I borrowed for the weekend and heading out along Long Island. The drive out along New York's jut out included pitstops at Walmart and Harbour Freight to replace the windshield wipers and outfit the car with necessary bike tools. The weather was already ominous and gloomy and as we drove through the Hamptons, the heavens opened up and the rain came down in relentless streams. The rain droplets formed a sheet and even the newly replaced windshield wipers barely maintained a clear field of vision. The showers let up as we rolled into Montauk, but a depressing gray hue still masked the beach town. Once we got settled in the hotel, we walked out in search of the Mightyman Montauk check-in tents.

The check-in area was filled with agitated people, understandably because of the cancelled swim portion. I positioned myself next to a group that was interrogating about retesting the waters and communicating their displeasure about the entrance fee without a swim portion. The answer we got was no and no. I was resigned to the fact that this was going to be a duathlon, run, bike, run that I could've easily done within New York City. I grabbed my race packet [useful] and a bag filled with cheap promo items [not] and went to sort out my bike situation. My boyfriend at this time had already snooped up free pairs of winter riding gloves, while I was collecting all my race stuff. Always good to bring someone to grab the goodies.

After reconfiguring my rental bike, we took a ride along the Montauk highway. There was definitely some nice headwinds coming from the unsheltered part of the shoreline. Coming back, I carbed up on some pizza

It was frigid at 5a.m. as I walked my bike along the pitch dark road towards the transition area. The stadium lights illuminated lines of bike racks, as people padding around to their assigned spots. I picked up my timing chip, strapped it on my ankle, and situated my things. Damn it was cold. It was that type of morning chill where my muscles were just frozen. I tried jogging around to warm up, but this required expending more energy than I would like to be constantly moving. As 7a.m. rolled around, participants started congregating towards the start line. Everyone was eyeing the tattoo on each other's calf that branded the athlete's exact age. Everyone was sizing up the competition and validating that they were in the correct group. Yep, I was feeling twenty-two. Women were the third wave that went out and at 7:08a.m., I was off.

My legs were running fast, maybe a little too fast. They still felt like frozen popsicle sticks that were moving beneath me, as I drafted off a couple females in front of me. I went along the sidewalk, all the way out to the turnaround, and blazed into the transition area. I kicked off my shoes, pulled my bike, looked both all ways, and padded across the grass. I ran across the asphalt barefooted, which was a little rocky for me, to avoid the cluster of athletes. One foot fitted into the shoe heel and one rubber band that was keeping my shoes leveled snapped. I pedaled a bit and the other foot followed suit, as I heard more veteran triathletes whiz by. Slow start, but the flying mount was definitely not in my repertoire. Thank gawd I didn't fall flat on my face.

But not even 5 minutes in, I was already trying to coax this Liv Avail bike. The bike course consisted of rolling hills, which was partially good for me. I was a decently climber, but got burned on the downhills and flats with this sluggish bike and also no aero bars. Up and down towards the lighthouse, as I pedaled on: upstroke and downstroke, upstroke and downstroke. The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon and a small breeze picked up. Oh right, I needed to refuel. My teeth ripped the gel tab partially off, so I could easily slip the package all intact back into my back pocket once I was done. I held the SIS gel in my mouth and it tasted just like tapioca. The water and electrolytes in my bottle spurred a bleh reaction. It was too liquidly and saline.

The cycling portion was mentally taxing. Every other breath I pleaded with the bike. Please, please just be a little more reactive and faster. Nothing. I did have some good correspondences as I was biking. Other athletes said hello and another female athlete complimented my kit. I call that a win. There was a very frustrating participant that made it very difficult for me to adhere to the drafting rules. He was set on being in front, but failed to keep up the pace. When I overtook him, he would play leap-frog. Man, just stay in the lane because this wasn't working. A couple out-and-backs and 1.5 hours later, I was descending towards the neon sprayed dismount line. As I was spinning, I partially slipped a foot out of my shoe to prepare to hop off my bike. Unfortunately, I misgauged how close I was to the girl ahead of me and gave her a little love tap with my shoulder. This was followed by a profuse apology. Racing foul numero uno.

My legs, my glutes, my hips had too much lactic acid. Read: holy sh*t that is some next level soreness piercing pain. One foot in front of the other, I dragged my bike, which was dragging my cycling shoes on the gravel to my transition area. Robotically, I put my running shoes on and I was racing, or racing with what energy I had left, out of the transition area to do my final loop.

The run start with a circle around a reservoir and then the only place to go was up. At this point the sun was blazing down, as I started my jog along the rolling hills. My strategy was quickened step cadence uphill and longer strides downhill. A nice participant gave me a brief intro to the neighborhood we were running in. It didn't help the soreness or fatigue and lack of enthusiasm I had for running, before he sped off. By this point, all the athletes were decently spread out. It was just me and the pavement.

With blisters and strains building up, I came down the last segment of the hills and saw the last exposed stretch before the tents. I felt my legs hit the sidewalk again that blended into grass. I turned right into the barricaded area and tents.

As I crossed the finish line, the announcer broadcasted Jas?%$! Cho from New York City, first triathlon. Nothing like finishing with the announcers completely butchering my name. I'm pretty sure I became a Jason from New York City. 

My boyfriend was there to greet me, but he beelined to get my result receipt. The marvel about technology now is that my timing chip already gave me my exact splits. I was too food-motivated to care and went to scour for bagels and a banana. After I was satisfied, I took a look at the paper.

Run 1 6:44 minutes per mile. That was definitely faster than I expected. Run 2 definitely slow. Overall Rank 76 and wait what? Division Rank 1 of 1? Was I the only one in my division competing.

20 minutes later, my standing still hadn't really changed. It wasn't a fluke, I did place 1st in my age-group, though I do have to say it was only out of 5 participants.

I won't bore with the rest of the award ceremony. Essentially it was a lot of roll calling and podium pictures. There was some drama between the female athletes vying for the overall title. It started with a confrontation about start times. The younger athlete defended herself briefly and then dipped out as fast as she could to avoid anything more of the unwanted questioning. Long story short, the local older triathlete thought she won first, but was blindsided by a younger triathlete that passed the older triathlete in the cycling portion. A triathlon couple tried consoling the local athlete by offering their winnings of Tate's cookies. The abundance of Tate's Cookies, really the only thing that the event gave out, obviously did not ameliorate anything. It was hilarious seeing competitive athletes not knowing what to do with the excess of calories and trying to trade off the stacks of cookies. But, know what, I will take it.