Are some of us born to eat?

I've had a few days to think about my performance (or lack thereof) at the Lancaster hot dog contest and I've decided to chalk it up as a learning experience and move on.

First of all, thanks to everyone who commented on the last post and offered some encouragement. Last night I was talking to my friend Jeremy (the guest mega muncher who wrote about the in-school pizza eating contest) and our conversation helped me realize a few things about my future in competitive eating.

We mainly talked about how I can't really beat myself up about eating only 9.5 hot dogs and buns in 10 minutes because it was my first time ever eating hot dogs in a timed contest and, most importantly, I didn't train and I don't stretch my stomach (except for two attempts at drinking a gallon of water about two months ago). So basically, the contest was a test of my inherant, natural eating abilities in comparison to those of 19 other competitors. The fact that I finished fifth should actually be somewhat encouraging. It means I'm in the top 25 percent as far as natural potential is concerned. I guess.

We also talked about whether or not the "average guy" (or gal) off the street could stretch their stomach and refine their technique enough to be competitive on the pro eating circuit. In other words, is there hope for me? That depends on what you consider "competitive." Jeremy and I agreed that the upper eshelon of eaters--the Joeys and Sonyas and Kobayashis of the buffet--are probably genetically predispositioned to be better eaters. (For example, Koby's gastroptosis condition which places his stomach much lower than most human's, allowing it to expand with minimal obstruction from those pesky ribs.) Basically these "super eaters" have larger than average stomachs (made even larger by stretching exercises) and/or better-than-average natural abilities to override the "fullness" feeling that causes most eaters to slow during the latter half of a contest.

The rest of the competitive eating field is comprised of people who push their bodies and work their asses off to gain every advantage they can. Some, like Eater X, train harder and want it more than just about anyone at the table and are therefore able to put up amazing totals that sometimes rival the super eaters numbers. Though it should be noted that a super-trainer like X can, on occasion, take down a natural born super eater if the super eater neglects to train (or is just having an off-day). Some argue that this is what is happening to Sonya, a woman who's gone on the record as eschewing formal eating exercises.

So that's where I am. Competing without training on nothing but raw ability. Like a guy who decides he wants to be a NASCAR driver but has never driven anything but his three-speed Hyundai and never more than 70 miles per hour. And he wonders why he keeps crashing and burning in turn two.