You're probably just here for the burgers. I'm ok with that.

“How many wieners do you have inside you right now?”

Twenty-one. And a half. That’s how many. And stop saying it like that.

Let’s get this straight. I’m not  a “competitive eater.” Well, at least I wasn’t when I drove to Tempe the morning of June 11 with a car full of friends. I’m just a guy (girl) who was egged into doing something incredibly stupid by people who have a weird pride and sick interest in my ridiculous talent.

Give the people what they want.

So there I was:  about to stand before a crowd and try not to embarrass my friends and myself by choking — both literally and figuratively.

I’m always willing to take on a challenge… and this challenge was the Nathan’s Hot Dog Competition Qualifier.

So how the hell did I end up here? Well after my competitive side decided it would be  a fun idea to show a friend up by eating a 3lb burger, I started getting calls whenever anyone I knew heard of an eating challenge.  And, of course, the one I heard about the most was Nathan’s Hot Dog Competition– the big show– the ultimate competitive eating competition.

Well, ONE of them at least.

Naturally, I said no. (It would be unnatural to want to eat a shit ton of hotdogs).  But, as my friends probably expected, I was convinced to say yes. I am super competitive after all, and I wanted to know how I would stack up against the pros. You know, to answer the question man has been asking for hundreds of years: How many hotdogs can you eat in 10 minutes?

But how do you go about preparing for a competition like this?  I don’t “train.” To me, training for eating involves a weird threshold that I don’t care to cross. Plus, I don’t want any more hotdogs inside me than absolutely need to be. Digesting 21 is bad enough. I don’t need training-dogs in there too.

But you see, that presents a dilemma. In my mind, the thought of scarfing hot dogs just reminds me of that scene in Field of Dreams where the kid would have choked to death if it weren’t for ghostpa. It seems like a food that you need strategy for, is what I’m saying. The last thing I would want to do is disqualify myself by dying during the challenge. That would be embarrassing.

Probably similar to the photo that would run in the paper...

Despite my fears, I went into the competition blindly — without practicing.

And choked on my first bite.

No joke.

It was a big chunk of hot dog — stuck in my throat. I tried swallowing — nothing. I tried using my throat muscles to shift it around — nothing. I tried to take a breath — tiny squeak… and then nothing.  Shit.

So I did what any person would do. I put more food in my mouth.

Game on.

I lost some precious seconds while choking to near death, but I’m not the type of person to walk off the field because of a minor setback.

I ate my bites differently, and my messy gulps of water may or may not have turned the front row into a Sea World-style Splash Zone. But I kept going.

And won.

Winning is like the opposite of dying.

And that’s it. The entire secret to my success. Overly-competitive nature combined with utter lack of preparation. Oh, and the ability to keep food down when people are spewing forth hotdogs all around you.

I practice by watching Tosh.0

It's a combination of shame and glory.

 But hey, maybe you’ll get a free trip to New York out of it too. See you at Coney Island!

*You can also be a winner in a whole other way: Check out http://mycharitywater.org/hotdogs to find out how!