Picture it. Sicily 1926. It was a warm Summer's afternoon. Sorry. Golden Girls flashback. The best work Betty White has done (except the Snickers ad). Picture it, Parramatta, 25 August. Despite the lure of the Pink grapefuit Tiros at City Extra, I stroll past and board the train bound for the big bright lights of Sydney CBD. As the train gets closer, my palms get a little clammier and my heart beats a little faster. Is it because I'm bound for the Sydney Tower Skywalk, or because I'm wearing my favourite bright pink Tommy Hilfiger polo shirt on a train in Parramatta? Probably the latter. Fortunately the size is XL rather than XXXXL in the bicep area and XS in the waist. It also has no subwoofers installed. So not worth stealing by anyone in my train carriage.
So I pony up the cash and take the elevotor up to the top of the tower. Get out. Walk around. Check out the view. Not so bad. Then I get ushered over to the holding pen, throw on the sexy blue overalls, a harness and clip myself to the railing. Then my fellow Sydney Skywalk guinea pigs and I hit the outside of the tower. We move across onto the first see-through glass platform, where we are encouraged to jump up and down vigorously. It shakes. Everybody laughs. Scott tries not to urinate. Then around to the other side and onto the second glass panel, that upon push of a button, extends further out over the edge, enabling a clear view to street level through the glass floor. By this stage though, my nerves have completely subsided and I was really drinking in what is a truly amazing view. A full 360 degree look at Sydney and I would highly recommend this to anyone. Beats watching the Shire. Don't feel obliged however to indulge in the horribly overpriced personalised souveneirs. A well oiled machine that, with the addition of an opal shop and a live koala to cuddle, could be the entire Cavill Mall encapsulated in one very high tower. Another sucker coming right up...
With adrenalin still coursing through my body, and before nightfall, I re-take the train back out to Parramatta knowing that the oversized novelty Sydney Skywalk photo won't hi-light me as an obvious tourist. I probably should have put it in my bumbag. Bucket List Item #10 officially ticked off. Check.
Picture it. Parramatta, 26 August. A fine Summer's day where I would take on arguably the biggest physical challenge of my life to date. The Ribs and Rumps Meat Your Match Challenge. For those playing at home, check out the MYM Challenge web link and drive traffic to Ribs and Rumps website. Check it a few times in fact. And share the link with your friends, relatives, acquaintances and those people you're kinda over but want to spam. To prepare for this monumental meal, I only had Main and Dessert (and not entree) the previous night for dinner, skipped both midnight mini-bar snack and breakfast, and "enjoyed" a "brisk" walk alongside the "picturesque" Parramatta River. Two hours of driving later and I find myself at Ribs and Rumps Shellharbour to facilitate the Meat Your Match Challenge for Youth Homelessness charity day, where a bunch of like minded little piggies descended upon Ribs and Rumps to devour copious quantities of animal flesh in the name of charity.
1:30pm rolls around. My designated time at the trough has arrived. Strategies filled my head. Eat it quickly before your stomach realises what's going on. Eat it slowly to allow your stomach to expand. Stuff some in your underwear while people aren't looking and don't forget to remove before the security check at the airport. The meal arrives. It doesn't look that bad. Until I realise, that sitting underneath the gigantic steak is a full rack of ribs and about 500g of chips. Then, methodically, meticulously and another m word, I start chipping away (excuse the pun).
After about an hour of slow and steady eating, I reduce the meal down to approximately a normal size meal. About 400g of steak, a small pile of chips and a couple of ribs. Trouble is I've eaten that already at least once, maybe twice. But like any high performance athlete, I just let the years of intensive training take over and get me to the finish line.
For all those Facebook friends out there that read my blog (both of you). You know how you get cut when people just post pictures of their food. How pissed must you be right now that you've pretty much watched a time lapse of my meal. Anyway, from the above point the strategy was simple. Power to the finish line like the Ugandan marathon guy. Not the two Kenyans. Those guys are soft.
After approximately 90mins of eating "victory" was mine.
And by victory I mean that I lapsed into a food coma for approximately two hours, then had to drive two hours to Sydney, check into the aiport, fly back to Brisbane and drive home approaching midnight in extreme discomfort and fully expecting at any point that my jeans would simply say "Enough is enough. We're demin, but even we are not that strong." Bucket List Item #12 officially ticked off. Check.
So parental units. Aside from my skills in driving too fast and drinking too much, another reason to be proud. Would I recommend the Meat Your Match Challenge? Abolsutely. I work at Ribs and Rumps after all. It costs $84.95 and all those sales make a big difference in me keeping my job. Would I recommend finishing it? Probably not. I've eaten some fairly big meals in my life, but this was easily the largest I've ever attempted. It tastes great until about 3/4 through, then it is just struggle. Of the 51 that took on the challenge with me at Shellharbour, only 25 finished. Check out the full library of photos here (don't be confused - this is the Ribs and Rumps website, not Starshots Glamour Photography). For all those Facebook food commentary haters out there... nom nom nom.
As another blog update draws to a close, it occurs to my that Chris J Guy wanted a shout out. By my recollection, you owe me approximately 980ml of Diet Coke champ. I'm coming to collect.
Until next time...
