The gagging and the glory

Ryan Nerz spent a year on the competitive eating circuit -- land of therapeutic vomiting, esophagus control and "meat sweats."

By Sarah Goldstein

Read more: Obesity, Life

April 19, 2006 | It was while she was working at the Burger King on Andrews Air Force Base in D.C. that Sonya Thomas, an immigrant from South Korea, first got the idea that perhaps her staggering appetite was not an insatiable curse but a gift. Shocking her co-workers, the waifish 38-year-old would throw back 20 chicken nuggets, a Chicken Whopper, three orders of large fries, and a couple of Diet Cokes for her midday meal. It was abundantly clear to anyone who watched Thomas eat that her stomach was made for greatness.

And so at the suggestion of friends, Thomas began to enter competitive eating contests. After an incredible first year -- she was named the International Federation of Competitive Eating's rookie of the year in 2003 -- she continued to break IFOCE records: 8.4 pounds baked beans, 2 minutes, 47 seconds; 161 chicken wings, 12 minutes; 11 pounds Downtown Atlantic Cheesecake, 9 minutes.

Thomas -- aka The Black Widow -- is just one of the dozens of eaters that Ryan Nerz profiles in "Eat This Book: A Year of Gorging and Glory on the Competitive Eating Circuit," an exhaustive, sometimes disgusting, account of his year as an emcee of eating contests. Eaters range from the 100-pound Thomas to the 6-foot-6-inch, 440-pound New York City subway operator and amateur rapper Eric "Badlands" Booker, to 6-foot-8-inch, 406-pound Ed "Cookie" Jarvis, a successful real estate broker from Long Island.

For what is still referred to by most people as a "subculture," competitive eating is garnering an increasing number of salivating fans. ESPN televises the Alka-Seltzer US Open of Competitive Eating, Fox shows the Glutton Bowl, 20,000 people show up each year for Philadelphia's Wing Bowl, and documentaries about professional eaters premiere at art house film festivals. And Nerz does not even have a corner on the competitive eating literary market -- "Horsemen of the Esophagus," by Jason Fagone, was also published this month. With an official league like any other professional sport and a mainstream television market, competitive eating has made impressive strides since the blueberry pie mass vomit scene in "Stand by Me."

Is it absurd to compare eating matzo balls to shooting basketballs? Probably. But sports are about mythologies, and if Japanese eater Takeru Kobayashi's record-breaking feat of 53 and one-quarter hot dogs in 12 minutes is not Jordanesque, then neither is apple pie American.

I recently met with Nerz over lunch at the Cedar Tavern in New York City where we talked about, among other things, overeating, the meat sweats, and how to keep down 13 pounds of watermelon. I had the veggie burger with salad, he the salade niçoise. Our waitress was distressingly thin.

Can you explain the "belt of fat" theory, which I understand is why eaters like Takeru Kobayashi and Sonya Thomas -- skinny people -- win eating competitions?

It is the layer of fat, the adipose tissue that composes a "belly," which actually restricts the ability of the stomach to expand. Basically this theory was put forth not by a scientist, but by a competitive eater named Ed Karachie, a big guy who lived in Queens. He was a hot-dog-eating champ in the mid-'90s who was dethroned by a tiny Japanese guy. That was the first time the Japanese started taking the title away from American eaters.

Some say Karachie's theory is the product of sour grapes -- he was very embarrassed to have been beaten by this little guy, and he was just trying any way to explain what happened to his boys in Queens. But he actually talked to doctors about his theory, and they said that it makes sense. When your belly is expanded to such a great degree, the pressure of fat against it will actually slow you down and restrict you. I talked to some doctors too about the "belt of fat" theory. Some say it makes sense; others aren't convinced.

In general, though, aren't most of the guys on the circuit big, overweight guys?

Yes, that's true. I emcee these contests locally and the guys who come out of the crowd and are good are almost inevitably big guys. But the trend now is toward the big guys trying to lose weight to get better, because of the belt-of-fat theory, which is ironic. Among the eaters in the top 10 now, at least five or six are thin. Sonya Thomas is 100 pounds, Kobayashi is unbelievably fit, buff with a six-pack. Apparently, from talking to doctors, your stomach has a really insane ability to expand. I actually think that because what you're testing in competitive eating is speed, one's talent has less to do with stomach capacity and more to do with esophagus control.

You mean like swallowing control?

Exactly. There are sphincters in your esophagus from what I understand, one that controls the gag reflex and one that's kind of a cardiac sphincter lower down that controls nausea. The eaters are like sword-swallowers. I mean these are involuntary contractions when we swallow but you can, by using your brain and practice, learn how to control them somewhat. And I think that's really what Kobayashi and Sonya have -- either they have an innate talent or they learn it or both.

OK, after reading the book I am pretty convinced this is a sport. But I feel like throughout the book you tread a line between taking it seriously and then being very tongue-in-cheek, and I was just wondering...

How serious am I?

Yeah, how serious do you take competitive eating? Is the tongue-in-cheek part because you think the audience might want to get some laughs?

Good question. To tell you the truth I'm not sure that I know. When I started, I was totally tongue-in-cheek. I was an American studies major. I thought, OK only in this cultural moment in this society would we make a sport of eating! But then I started to meet the eaters, and you know, guys like Badlands Booker, who's the nicest guy in the world, who has two CDs of competitive-eating-themed hip-hop and is totally not ironic, totally earnest and dead serious. And you just start to absorb that.

Next page: There's probably more vomiting than the competitors admit