Pat Bertoletti plans to get a normal job. Probably something in a kitchen. He is, after all, a culinary arts major. The problem is that, after you’ve grown accustomed to making thousands of dollars in a matter of minutes, typical college-student wages aren’t all that satisfying.

Bertoletti, a junior at Kendall College in Chicago, is a competitive eater. Ranked 10th internationally, he has downed 11.5 pounds of corned beef sandwiches in 10 minutes and 19 dozen oysters in the same amount of time. In 15-minute spans, he has polished off 5.25 pounds of pizza and 12.78 pounds of watermelon. For Valentine’s Day this year, he celebrated by consuming almost 2 pounds of chocolate hearts in eight minutes (and won $5,000 for it).

Consider that the stomach of an average adult comfortably holds only 3 pounds of food, and that a typical meal consists of only a pound to a pound and a half — significantly less than what Bertoletti can swallow in the time span of a coffee break.

Although it will probably never be dubbed America’s favorite pastime, competitive eating is growing in popularity. Like any other sport, it requires skill, training and perseverance. But it also has its risks.

From cave man to cash cow

Competitive eating has likely been around for the entirety of human existence, says Arnie Chapman, chairman of the Association of Independent Competitive Eaters — ever since the days of cave people, when men would kill more than they could eat and, Chapman speculates, challenge each other to eating matches to keep the leftovers from spoiling.

In the modern world, its roots are in eating contests at fairs. The most famous is Nathan’s Famous 4th of July International Hot Dog-Eating Contest, which began 90 years ago and is still held annually at Coney Island in New York.

The sport has come a long way since then, generating phenomenal eaters like Bertoletti and receiving media attention — including coverage on ESPN.

A first-place, record-breaking finish at the GoldenPalace.net Corned Beef and Cabbage Eating Championship last month brought Bertoletti’s career earnings to nearly $15,000 — not too shabby for someone who discovered his eating ability only about a year ago.

Got water?

While some competitive eaters train for contests by ingesting large quantities of food beforehand, Bertoletti prefers filling up with water. This stretches his stomach without contributing calories to his diet. Several times within a week of a contest, he chugs a couple gallons of water — each one in about 30 seconds. Occasionally, before big competitions, he does practice runs with food.

Preparing with food paid off in the Golden Palace.net Grilled Cheese Finals in February, in which Bertoletti came in third with 24.5 sandwiches in 10 minutes.

Just keep swallowing

Achieving feats like this requires mental stamina as much as physical ability. In a way, competitive eating is like running a marathon, Bertoletti says. Eaters hit a wall just like runners do and have to find a way to push past it.

“Just keep swallowing,” he says. “When you hit the wall, the first thing you want to do is start over-chewing, and you have to make yourself swallow.”

Super-sized portions, not super-sized eaters

Interestingly, the competitors who can eat the hugest portions are far from large themselves. Takeru Kobayashi, the world’s top eater, is 5 feet 7 inches tall and 132 pounds. Sonya Thomas, in second place, is 5 feet 5 inches tall and a mere 100 pounds.

An idea called the “belt of fat” theory, though not medically confirmed, seeks to explain why the best eaters are usually slim. The theory speculates that fat restricts the stomach from expanding, and therefore the eaters with the least fat are the ones who can stretch their stomachs the most.

Although Bertoletti says he isn’t completely sold on the idea, any possibility that it might be true is enough to hold him to lunches of salad, fruit and cottage cheese. That, and an aversion to getting fat. You have more control over your body, he says, when you’re fit.

Medical marvels or risky role models?

The belt of fat theory is just one aspect of competitive eating that hasn’t been tested. Another alludes to something special about these eaters’ stomachs that enables them to consume so much food.

David Metz, a gastroenterologist at the University of Pennsylvania and spokesman for the American Gastroenterological Association, would like to study competitive eaters’ ability to relax their stomachs in hopes of finding a treatment for a condition called dyspepsia. Dyspepsia is equivalent to indigestion, he says. A possible cause for some cases of the disorder is the stomach’s inability to stretch and relax properly after eating.

“These competitive eaters can eat like horses,” he says. “Their receptive relaxation is most likely much better than the average guy’s on the street, and probably better than someone’s with dyspepsia.”

In addition to drawing medical interest, the sport raises health concerns. Two-thirds of Americans are overweight or obese, says Bonnie Taub-Dix, a dietitian in Woodmere, N.Y. and a spokesman for the American Dietetic Association. Competitive eating is an extreme example of a national trend to eat too much too quickly. And she says it presents health risks for the competitors, as well. Competitors could choke or rupture their stomachs, she says.

“It’s asking your body to do a lot when you’re asking it to digest that amount of food,” she says. “Instead of putting pieces of meat into a grinder, you’re putting in a side of beef all at once.”

Professional contests have medical personnel on site, she points out, but some competitions take place in bars or fraternities without such supervision.

The future of (really) fast food

Chapman, the chairman of the eating association, agrees that competitive eating should occur only when safety precautions are in place. But he also endorses the value of the sport and of its ability to create laughter, as well as competition.

“Competitive eating’s future is not in a sterile, completely competitive approach,” he says. “Its future is in people who want to keep the lunacy and fun. What other professional sport offers that opportunity for such delicious silliness?”