Sports drinks remind me of zombies. When the inevitable zombie uprising happens, sports drinks will be the new currency. Natural sources of water will become contaminated. Bottled water will be used to irrigate small survival gardens. Soda will be consumed almost completely in the days after the outbreak by teenagers and children. Sports drinks will keep the living alive.
Gatorade and Powerade will be pilfered and stockpiled first. Times will get tough. Months will pass. Resources will become scarce. All of the substandard and second tier products left on store shelves after the first wave of looting will be looked upon with fresh gratitude.
That is the only time in the future I can ever imagine drinking another Title Sports Drink Lemon Frenzy. And even then, I might just give it to the youngest members of our group so they can grow strong and carry on.
A few months ago I found Title Sports Drink at my local drugstore. I wasn’t thrilled by it. Since then, “title sports drink” is the search phrase that leads the most people to my corner of the internet. So I thought it was time to do a little revisiting.
Back then, I found the drinks on a mighty multiple shelf end cap. Hundreds of bottles. This week, I found a handful of bottles pushed all the way to the far corner of the refrigerated drinks section. Something tells me they weren’t all sold (the end cap was now home to Chris Angel Mind Freak magic kits). But that’s good news for future apocalypse survivors, as the discovery of the boxed up drink palette will be a rare cause for celebration in bleak, bleak times.
This go-round, I thought I’d do a little exercising before I downed some Lemon Frenzy, to put myself in the mindset of the people this drink is being marketed to. Cardio maintenance will be the deciding factor between escaping to a religious family’s farmhouse in the country or succumbing to horde death in a dank, urban alleyway.
So I treadmilled it up for a good 30 minutes or so, to work up a good sweat before I downed bottle.
The lemon flavor is light. It doesn’t taste nearly as strong as other lemon sports drinks. For a moment it sort of tasted like very bland natural lemonade. Like the fresh squeezy kind a disgruntled teenager would serve you from a stand at a state fair or renaissance festival. But that flavor doesn’t last more than a femtosecond before it gets swallowed up by the stevia sweetener which I can’t stand. It was sweet. Sweeter tasting than Gatorade or Powerade. I didn’t expect that. It was not good.
No one’s going to be trading jars of stevia for gasoline, women, or wheat. It’s going to be sugar. Sugar and bottles of corn syrup. Be realistic.
The plasticky aftertaste is still there. I can’t get over it and I still hate it. I shouldn’t want to reach for another drink to wash away the bad aftertaste of my first drink. But I do. Whose got that kind of time? Not to mention the pack space needed for an extra bottle. You gotta pack light. You don’t want your bulging rucksack getting caught on Farmer Brown’s barbed wire fence. Those people you met holed up in the gas station aren’t going to stop and help you when the brains hit the fan.
Did it make me feel refreshed? Did the 72 trace minerals replenish whatever I was missing? Who knows? My body isn’t exactly a high performance machine. It was wet and cold. That’s what I want after a run. And something that tastes good. This did not taste good. The Lemon Frenzy is just as horrible as Berry.
When it finally happens, have some foresight and stock up on this drink. Eventually the good stuff will run out and the battery rigging you need for your iPod is going to cost a ton of this stuff.
Until then, just pick up a Gatorade. The corn syrup is not going to kill you. The zombies will.