Many of the country's top competitive eaters were chomping beef patties for a $50,000 prize Sunday at the World Hamburger Championship in Chattanooga, Tenn. But corny dog devotees were slurping away in Dallas at the sixth annual World Corny Dog Eating Championship.

"It's the Fletcher's corny dog that does it," said Michael Wilkes, who downed 12.5 dogs to win the State Fair of Texas championship. He beat Brent Ricord, whom he tied last year for the title, by a dog. The record set three years ago, 18 corny dogs in 10 minutes, remains unbroken.

The 15 contestants – whittled down from about 45 entries after proclaiming their passion for corny dogs and food fests – ranged from marathon runners to hungry college kids. This marked the first eating contest for all but three competitors.

Angela Vanhoose, the only woman in the group, won the fair's Durango Tango competition last year by dancing 27 hours. A seven-time marathoner and Dallas resident, she said a competitive streak and a desire "to humiliate myself" motivated her to enter.

She only managed one stick but smiled when she walked off-stage, unlike Fort Worth resident Rich Street. He said his wife signed him up because "she has a mean streak."

The secret to Mr. Wilkes' scarfing success lies in buffets. The 47-year-old, 322-pound sporting goods salesman from Krum spent the first part of the weekend chowing on all-you-can-eat catfish and dining at Red Lobster.

But it may be more than a stretched stomach that gives Mr. Wilkes an edge.

"Stomach sizes vary," said Lawrence Schiller, a gastroenterologist at Baylor University Medical Center at Dallas. "Some are shaped bigger and loop up so they can hold more food than normally oriented stomachs."

Still, training is critical to avoiding injury, Dr. Schiller said.

Such warnings weren't enough to ward off die-hard corny dog lovers like Southern Methodist University student John Watts.

"I look forward to the fair every year and I do nothing but eat corny dogs, so I thought, 'Why not participate?' " said the competitive eating rookie, who admitted it was more about the atmosphere than the grand prize of $500 and two Southwest Airline tickets.

Fair nostalgia is still the primary impetus for an event that is fast becoming a sport of sorts, said Richard Shea, president of the International Federation of Competitive Eating.

"Competitive eating is actually rooted in state fairs and harvest festivals," he said, although increased attention is reshaping its purpose. "Images of state fair contests and major league eating have now brought it to the level of a sport."

Mr. Wilkes, who has attended the State Fair of Texas for the past 45 years, said he competes only in the corny dog contest. It's about the childlike revelry of stuffing your face with your favorite food. And getting cheered to do it.

"You always like hearing your name, and now I'm nice and stretched," he said, rubbing his stomach. "I'm gonna go get me a corn on the cob."