Pick My Poison

Which would you choose as your intra-run snack?

We’ve got beans, moons, sharkies, gu and (dum, dum, duuuuuum) the indefatigable Triple Threat.

The moons are delish. I ate the watermelon variety last week during my 15-miler. The beans are sweet. Almost too sweet. And I think they’ll be hard to chomp on as I’m gasping for air keeping a healthy, even breath pattern during my run. I’ve eaten them pre-run before and, well … super-powered jelly beans at 7am … a sub-optimal snack. (Side Note: Could eggs, hash browns, bacon and waffles – washed down with several ounces of full-fat maple syrup – be an acceptable pre-run snack?)

I haven’t tried the Gu. People rave about it. I’ve tried the PowerBar gels, and I think it’s what upset my stomach so much last time. Well, it was either the concentrated sugar/electrolyte/vitamin-overload combination or the fact that I ran FIFTEEN miles. At once. Quickly. AT ONCE. Not slowly. Again, the running, and all.

Let’s talk Sharkies. They caught my eye on the way out of my local triathalon shop (there are several in Newtopia), and their sheer organicness compelled me to purchase not one, but two of the squishy, fruity, electrolytey delicacies. The helpful man at the store said they “fly off the shelves” and well, if that doesn’t say “Kerry has to have it,” I don’t know what does. I’m thinking maybe, just maybe, the absence of chemicals and general crap, implied by the term “organic”, may alleviate some of the stress on the stomach. But then there’s the small matter of this week’s mileage – SIXTEEN, PEOPLE.

And, if all else fails, there’s always The Triple Threat. One part high-powered energy chunks. One part FDA-approved steroid juice. One part indestructible awesomeness. How can I go wrong with one of these bad boys in my pocket? I’m beginning to think I should keep one in my handbag at all times. You know, for the look-0ut-ladies-Mommy’s-here-to-shop clearance sales at Filene’s Basement, the every-girl-for-herself 8am Starbucks rush, or the near-extinct crazy ladies’ night out where I’m all, “It’s only 10:30?” and could truly pitch myself a nice sleepy nook under the bar, covered only in Bud Light-emblazoned cocktail napkins and the thin haze of Snakebites? Not that that’s ever happened.

Stay tuned: I’ll let you know how the snacks go.