When I started doing contests, I didn't look at it as a sport, but when I realized I was looking at it that way, I had to acknowledge it as a sport.
I know I hold the contest record for downing the most hot dogs, and the record for most Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Contest championships, but it was really cool to be a part of a Guinness World Records official attempt.
Pretty much all I'm doing during an eating contest is being uncomfortable and not forgetting to breathe.
I think that happens to anybody, when they train for things over and over again, and then they just realize, 'What do I train for now?'
I don't mind losing because it really shows me what the other eaters are capable of.
I don't want to train for every contest the way I do for the Fourth of July. It would be impossible.
I travel pretty much every weekend of the summer. And then during the winter, I still do appearances and a couple contests here and there.
It doesn't get old. Just like running doesn't get old to people who like to run. I just love to eat.
I have to eat healthy, and I recover. I run, and I lift weights.
If there's something I like, I'm going to eat a little more of it than most people.
I do know when my body is ready or when it's going to perform best for me.
I can't tell you all my secrets to how I can eat so many. Someone out there might copy it. But I will tell you this: The night before the competition, I sleep only four hours. That means when I actually do eat, my stomach will want to digest the food quicker.
I've slowly made my body adapt and understand what's going to happen.
Honestly, I'm so competitive that sometimes I don't understand what other people are going through.
There have always been a lot of critics of competitive eating. You can be a critic of anything. It's easy to be a critic. You can say negative things about golf, the amount of water wasted on golf courses. Or NASCAR. There are wastes in everything.
I'd never eaten lobster before. I was 21. I didn't know what the heck I was doing. I was scooping guts. But I tied for third. And the two men who beat me didn't look good. One was Bob Shoudt. He seemed in pain. And I felt fine! I was 'Oh, my God, they look like they're dying. And I can eat so much more!' I knew I was made for it after that contest.
I'm more than just a competitive eater. I'm a smart guy. I could be an awesome park ranger.
I have to learn to ignore my feelings. Not just the feeling of hunger and the feeling of full, but the feeling of embarrassment, too. I have to remember that this is only weird if I make it weird.
