Eating I can do, eating spicy food I can also do – but eating the hottest curry the Richmond Indian Cafe could cook? Let’s just say my body doesn’t really like me at the moment.
I’m not going to lie, despite growing up on Mexican food I was pretty nervous about this challenge.
Give me a bowl of fiery Chilli Con Carne or a jalapeno-packed sandwich and I’m right. But ridiculously spicy curry was something I’d never tried and I had no idea how much they planned to turn up the heat.
That first spoonful of chicken vindaloo was an abrupt warning of what was to come and let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty.
Going into the challenge, I was expecting something similar to post break-up tears and post crossfit sweats.
What I got was one hell of a burning oesophagus, hot flushes, heat rashes, watering eyes, a running nose and a sweaty, shaky body, but what packed the biggest punch was the dizziness.
I wasn’t expecting it but it hit hard and fast, I’ve never been so dizzy in my life, I was truly spaced out.
A long slog ensued with a combination of gritted teeth, clenched fists and forcing myself to spoon the spicy concoction into my mouth and, luckily for you, my displeasure is all documented on video for your viewing pleasure
The more I ate, the harder it became to convince myself to keep going.
My mouth was on fire, my whole body was unbelievably hot, my head was goodness knows where and all I knew was that I had to keep the pain coming until that menacing bowl of chicken vindaloo was empty.
As soon as I put down that last triumphant spoonful I was reaching for the naan bread and any form of liquid I could find, I desperately needed something to dowse the flames consuming my insides.
Then it hit me like a tidal wave, my body began to attack from within and the contents inside my stomach decided to reenact a giant freight ship being tossed about in a storm.
My unsettled tummy then decided he wanted to party with his best friend, nausea, and I was the only one not having a good time.
It wasn’t until the usually bubbly and talkative Brittany became dead silent that the guys realised how plausible regurgitating my lunch was.
Did they show any sympathy? Like hell they did.
On the drive back to the office, the car was filled with fake spewing sounds and, at many points, I almost joined in with real ones.
I had to chant the mantra ‘I’m not going to vomit, I’m not going to vomit’ all the way home.
Much to the guys’ disgust, I proceeded to projectile across the leather seats… just kidding, somehow I surprised everyone, including myself, and kept it down.
Although I’m sure they would have enjoyed watching me blow chunks across the car.
One point to Brittany.
Over the next couple of days, my tummy kept playing up and unfortunately I can vouch that it hurt almost as much coming out as it did going in.
I would not recommend this challenge to anyone.