I’m not proud to admit it, but I’m a failure.
I had the world at my disposal, and I threw it all away. The future was limitless for me, but not anymore. The taco got the best of me.
Unlike my companion on the other page, I went into this challenge not with doubts, but confidence, audacity, bravado even. A 2-pound taco? Come on. That’s kids’ stuff, I thought. Where’s the “challenge” in this Taco Gigante Challenge? Step up your game, Margaritas!
In case you didn’t know, the proposal is this: Anyone who can finish the 2-pound taco in less than an hour wins free tacos for a year (that’s one taco per week for a year). A dollar of every Taco Gigante purchase goes to End 68 Hours of Hunger, a nonprofit effort to confront the approximately 68 hours of hunger some school children experience between the free lunch they receive in school on Friday afternoon and the free breakfast they receive in school Monday morning.
But I was served a whopping portion of humble pie, wrapped in a 12-inch tortilla.
When I first sat down, I nonchalantly started digging into the chips and salsa, not for a second thinking that this would hurt my ability to down a 2-pounder. I ordered a water and started sipping away at that, too.
“You’re actually eating chips first?” asked a stunned Ernesto Burden, the digital czar of Monitor parent company Newspapers of New England, who acted as our lead cameraman for this assignment.
I figured I had plenty of room to spare. I held off eating anything substantial all day – a few potato chips at the office, then the tortilla chips and salsa while I awaited the main course.
It turns out this abstinence technique blew up in my face (though not literally, thankfully).
Anyone who knows anything about competitive eating knows that you can’t go into the competition cold. It takes months of preparation – working out, eating tons every day to stretch the stomach.
I did none of that. Figured I didn’t need to. After all, I wasn’t going to be going up against Joey Chestnut, on live television, from the world famous Coney Island, with a much shorter deadline and way more food.
But therein lies my fatal flaw – not respecting the competition.
When the behemoth was brought to the table, the gravity of the situation hit me: this was going to be a bit tougher than I thought.
The mere sight of that huge tortilla was intimidating. Easily the biggest hard-shell taco wrap I had ever seen. And the taco filling wasn’t a bunch of light filler – it was chock full of meat.
Normally anything full of meat is a great thing, but when time is of the essence, it can pose problems – and it did.
I love beef, I love chicken, I love pork, I love bacon. But when I’ve got to down about a pound of it – along with rice, jalapenos, cheese, lettuce, beans and sauces – it feels more like a chore than a treat.
Speaking of chores, picking the thing up was no easy task. It wasn’t soggy at all, like I expected it to be, but it was just heavy. Like, 2 pounds heavy. That’s like eight quarter-pounders from McDonald’s. When you put it into that perspective, it’s obvious that it’s a lot of food.
But like our waitress, Fallon, said, “It’s not an undoable amount.” Easy for her to say.
For me, it was undoable. At least within the hour we were given. I tell myself that if I only had 20 more minutes, I would have done it. And without actually having had those 20 minutes, I can sit back and just declare as fact that I certainly would have. Can you prove otherwise?
Tim, a much bigger guy than myself, had no problem with it. In fact, I’m pretty sure he wanted another one after he finished his but the kitchen said they ran out of meat.
In the end, I gave it all I had. When the clock struck zero, I had finished about 90 percent of the meal, leaving mostly shell and a couple bites worth of filling – and my pride – on the plate.
And when I walked out of there – very slowly and laboriously – I had mixed feelings.
First and foremost, I was full. Very full. But I was also upset at myself for not bearing down and getting it done. I was relieved that I didn’t have to keep grinding it out. I was embarrassed that my cohort was able to do it and I wasn’t, yet I was also consoled by the fact that at least one of us made the company proud.
The challenge lasts through Oct. 27, so I’m going to start preparing now to redeem myself.
