After running an 18k with Heather a few months ago, I discovered that the perfect running companion (well, in addition to Heather) was a plastic baggy full of Haribo. The tiny gummies provided the burst of sugar that I needed to conquer every kilometer, and I don’t think I would have made it past 10k without each little bear that I decapitated with my teeth.
This runner’s treat has since become an obsession. From smuggling back German varieties to wagging a finger at Franprix for not having my favorite (the sour Smurfs), it’s become unhealthy. Once I open a bag of Haribo, I know it won’t last long. Bears, Smurfs, crocodiles – no character is free from the wrath of my sweet tooth. Going for a run is just an excuse to eat an entire bag of sweets afterwards.
And the choices just keep getting better. A trip to the Monoprix supermarket yesterday revealed that Orangina, everybody’s favorite orange drink, has teamed up with Haribo. A match made in heaven? Indeed. I immediately bought a bag, hoping it would last more than one night. Of course, it didn’t.
They were supposed to be sour (pik!), but ever since the War Head craze of the 1990s, I don’t think anything in France can compare to real sour candy. Instead, they were delightfully citrusy with a little zing. The best part? I’m reasonably, though unscientifically sure that the bag I consumed qualified as a serving of fruit. Health benefits galore!
Is the anything wrong with a 26 year old man shopping weekly for Haribo candy? Probably. I’m always the tallest person in the aisle. But I need to keep sampling the varieties so I can plan the menu for September’s marathon. While Heather’s great for moral support and chit chat while we run, I can’t possibly hope to complete 42 kilometers without a few Smurfs and teddies by my side as well.
But don’t worry, Heather, I’ll share.