The weekend started out fairly well, but I think I should have realized things would go wrong very early on. Everyone got to my place in Louisville (from St. Louis) late Friday night, and the first ill omen happened pretty early on. After seemingly mastering Ninja Gaiden, I couldn't seem to beat the game that evening, and I gave up...bad idea.
The next bad omen came when we left roughly 90 minutes later than planned. While this wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it just goes to show you that I should have noticed these signs for what they were. The trip to Pennsylvania was fairly pleasant, and I followed through on my promise to run at our gas stops. I ran about half a mile at the first stop, and Justin and I then ran a little more than that at the next stop. One thing I realized late in the morning, however, was that even though I had stopped eating over 12 hours before, I never really felt hungry like I was hoping.
Fortunately my stomach started rumbling about 60 miles from Clearfield, and when we pulled in to the restaurant, I began to experience the nerves normally reserved for the starting line at a race (I'm not exaggerating at all). I had been training for this day and it was finally here. So we ordered our burgers and waited.
When they came, my eyes went wide at the size of the burger, but I wasn't really surprised. To be honest, it really was just about how I pictured it...maybe just a bit bigger. But I was ready, and had my strategy all planned out: eat the meat first and then worry about everything else.
Well, about halfway through the meat, I started feeling the effects of the massive amount of beef. While it tasted great (seriously, it was and excellent burger) I quickly got sick of the taste of it. So after about half of the meat was gone, I began eating tomatoes and banana peppers, which helped me get through probably another quarter of the meat (or roughly 1/2 lb, to put it into context). Then I couldn't take any more meat, so I concentrated on the toppings and bun.
I ate all the tomatoes and banana peppers next, and that was actually quite easy. I really wish I could have eaten the rest of the meat I had left, but it still repulsed me, so I focused on the bun. And while the doubts had started to creep into my mind before this, the next part of my journey was what did me in.
They spread a ton of nasty, sour relish on that bottom bun, and I couldn't take it after all the meat and toppings I had already eaten. It was just too strong. So after eating about half of the lower bun, I put it down and focused on the top bun. At this point I still had probably 25 minutes left so in essence, it was still possible as I was past the halfway point. However, this bun was insane. It was like eating about 6 cooked pretzels, for how dense it was. Eating a bite of the bun was like eating an entire piece of bread, and it seemed to expand in my stomach. So I formulated a plan to roll up the bun and try to eat it in as few bites as possible...except rolled up, it was still the size of a grilled stuffed burrito from taco bell, except all bread and not delicious grilled, stuffed fillings. So I got about halfway through this, but even before I started that, I knew I was done.
I don't know why I kept at that top bun except that I wanted to see just how far I could get in an hour. Instead, with about 12 minutes left I surrendered, having eaten probably 3/4 or more of the meat, all the toppings except the relish, and probably the equivalent of half of the bun, so I probably finished about 3/4 of the entire thing. Our pal, El Nino did much better, finishing all but the top bun before throwing in the towel.
Now, I thought I would digest that thing quickly and be done with it, but somehow the worst was yet to come. When I stood up from the table after paying the bill (and unsuccessfully trying to drink a beer) I felt a sharp pain in my stomach and it felt like I might explode. As we walked out, the feeling only got worse. I could do nothing but wander the parking lot, walking back and forth to try to get this shit to digest quicker. But it didn't. I probably should have just tried to make myself vomit, but I was too arrogant for that, and instead got in the van after a short delay and we began the trip home. I would say the first four hours (no exaggeration, I promise) of the trip back I was in serious physical pain. Finally after about 6 hours I felt normal again, but definitely not hungry. That burger digested so slowly that I wasn't hungry until the next afternoon...I ate a small breakfast the next morning, but that was almost painful.
So even though it was a fun trip, I will always look back on it in anger at my failure. I really was disappointed that I didn't finish that burger. Who knows, maybe I'll try again. But one thing is for sure...I am not done with eating challenges, not by a long shot. I will not quit until I have my name on the wall of some restaurant for successfully completing their challenge.
No comments:
Post a Comment