I should have known something was up when the waiter gave me an interesting look. Honestly I thought the dish's name was simply a way of describing it as large. When I read "three pound burrito," I wasn't expecting an enormous plate with nearly fifty ounces of meat, cheese, and vegetables to be brought to me. After realizing the error of my ordering skills, I figured I would eat about half and save some for a future meal. However, two-thirds of the way through and being thoroughly satisfied, I knew this opportunity might never come again. So, with encouragement from my better half and no real sense of shame, I went for it. Bite after pain-staking bite, I completed the mission. I was a bit worried about what might come of this feat of eating strength. I'm not sure what was more impressive: finishing up a gigantic burrito or literally feeling no ill effects afterwards. My stomach's resistance to destruction led my wife to think I might have a profitable future in competitive eating. While that is quite compelling, I think I will stick to normal eating routines, though my definition of normal might be a bit different than the norm.