A week ago a handsome man in plaid biked by with a pearly white Gatorade in his hand. A couple of days later another attractive man passed on the sidewalk with two rainbow Gatorades! It turned out Gatorade was on sale for 89 cents at my local grocery store- the only one I like to go to regularly because it has a self-checkout which is ideal for introverts.
I’m usually a devoted Smart Water consumer but as a sweaty pregnant woman in need of electrolytes for summer, I immediately took advantage of this absurdly attractive deal. With twenty Gatorades in my trunk, from forest green to fuschia, I wanted to know what it was that made this classic sports drink so special. Is it just a marketing gimmick or is it truly a magical libation? I went to the Library of Congress, to the original headquarters of Gatorade in Florida, and to the University of Richmond, the original loyal big name customer. No just kidding, I googled that polychromatic water park themed “wild water rush” shit.
Consisting of water, sodium, sugar, some other stuff and mysterious sweeteners with cryptic names that conjure up Norse gods, Gatorade is used by super athletes and sexual deviants to replace electrolytes lost during strenuous activities. Gatorade rehydrates, replenishes, and refuels ultrarunners who would otherwise die in the mountains, NASCAR racers lost in circles, and pregnant women like me at the end of a long day carrying a melon-sized kicking fetus. It also saved me from a dire case of food poisoning from a snotty teen-handled beef burrito eaten at a Mormon-swarmed Cafe Rio. Long live Gatorade.