It’s a Wednesday much like any other. I grabbed a latte on the way to work. I had project planning meetings and client calls. I ran some errands. But there was one thing that made this Wednesday special.

Today I woke up a fucking champion.

Ok, there was another thing that made today special and it’s related to that first thing.

My stomach was a complete disaster.

Last night I competed in Oak and Ore’s First Annual Nashville Hot Chicken Challenge. One year ago the amazing Plaza District beer bar and restaurant began serving Nashville Hot Chicken on Tuesdays and hosted this special event to mark the occasion. Five contestants agreed to take part in the Hot Chicken extravaganza, but once the rules and spice blend were announced, two promptly (and intelligently) dropped out. I was not one of those two.

Here’s how it worked: The delicious fried chicken would be seasoned with a special spice blend that Micah, the evil genius behind Oak and Ore, created just for this contest. The blend included Ghost, Scorpion, Scotch Bonnet, and Carolina Reaper peppers and the contestants were required to take at least two bites every minute. The poor sucker who could last the longest without drinking milk or eating bread would be crowned the victor and go home to their lucky family with a trophy and bragging rights.

So, I sat at the table situated in the front of the bar along with my sworn enemies of the evening, Joel from the Plaza District and Alvie from Stonecloud Brewing. It should be noted that Alvie had a large part in creating Oak and Ore’s standard hot chicken recipe so I wasn’t feeling super confident about beating him.

The first plate came out and we marveled at the crimson intensity and hellish scents that wafted our way. I recoiled in terror and regretted every decision I had ever made that led me to this seat at this table. Half a glass of lukewarm water sat in front of each of us, our only perceived comfort from the mountain of lava that sat on our plates, even though logic told us that water wouldn’t help.

The contest started and we began eating. It was so damn hot. The only thing I could do was take long, deep breaths and try to convince myself that it was all temporary. No matter what I did the seasoned crispy skin hit every part of my mouth, my lips, and somehow my nose. My face was on fire.

10 minutes went by and all three of us are standing strong, but I don’t know how. Alvie lurches at one point, making it clear that the spice is punching him in the stomach more than the face. To make it worse, a decision was made to increase the pace to two bites every thirty seconds. At 15 minutes Alvie’s stomach can’t take any more and taps out. One competitor down, one to go.

With Alvie gone it was just me and the middle guy, Joel. He was much smaller than I (which isn’t hard) and was definitely more animated, flashing crazy eyes and letting out the occasional “whooo”. Both of these facts gave me confidence.

What didn’t give me confidence was the fact that as I was dealing with the heat, the quantity of the chicken was starting to grow inside me. We had been eating for 30 minutes when my stomach started freaking out a bit.

This is when I realized the mistake I made.

I had read that in order to prepare for super hot spices, you should protect your stomach by laying down a solid layer of food, especially fatty food as capsaicin (the thing that gives chilies their heat) is fat-soluble. So, on the way to the event I hit my local Braum’s and took down a cheeseburger and a medium chocolate milkshake. The fact that this had now turned into not only a heat endurance challenge, but a food quantity challenge had me worried. Luckily Joel let it slip that he too ate prior to the contest due to reading about the same strategy. This made me feel better.

At 35 minutes something happened inside of me. My stomach settled a bit and the spice went away. I was enjoying a nice snack. Joel was next to me with rust-colored sauce all over his face, squirming and breathing heavy. He gulped his water instead of taking small sips.

I got this, I thought.

I let him know that I could keep eating all night, that I was feeling totally fine. His friend made a comment that I didn’t look phased. A minute later my stomach convulsed and I felt like I might lose everything I had just ingested, but I had to remain calm.

At minute 44 my competitor couldn’t take his required bites, leaning back in his chair and saying “I’m out”. I lurched up from my seat for victory pose, threw my arms in the air, and hoped to God that I didn’t throw up and shit myself due to the sudden movement.

The event was a total blast, but 45 minutes of eating crazy hot chicken is something nobody should have to go through. My guess is that Micah will do everything in his power to make the contest so hot next year that it will be over much quicker. That is not a day I’m looking forward to.

Thanks to Oak and Ore, and a huge nod to Alive and Joel who were amazing competitors. I felt pains today that I wish on no man, and it’s all their fault.