Parrying My Energy Drink Addiction

My Muse, My Flame

I like energy drinks far too much.

In a world where all the cool kids seem to be Celsius enjoyers (Bang is so 2022, amiright?), I prefer the normie classic Red Bull (Curuba Elderflower, 2024’s Summer Edition, is my all-time favorite, but that might have more to do with my thirst for the tender blossom than anything).

When I wake, I prefer the feeling of Red Bull caffeine over the tweaky, diuretic fugue that comes over me as a result of whatever other compounds lurk in the humble coffee bean.

When I have a cold, the glucose and B vitamin blast knocks me into feeling alright for a bit.

When I simply crave the sweet, sweet nectar of Sambucus nigra (or at least an artificial approximation), Red Bull is probably healthier than guzzling St-Germain at 3 AM. Probably.

But a grim look at my most recent bank statement brought me to terms with the truth that I spend far too much on energy drinks. After the crushing realization that selling a kidney for elderflower money would result in a body far worse equipped to consume the products of this sale, I decided instead to engineer an energy drink of my own. There won’t be any elderflower involved until T.J. Maxx takes pity on me, but blue™ is perhaps my second-favorite beverage flavor, so we’ll go with that.

The Requirements

I wanted my drink to have the following qualities:

• cheap (less than $1 per 12 fl oz serving)
• small amount of caffeine (I want some energy but am fairly sensitive to caffeine)
• full of electrolytes (might as well make it good for something)
• using locally available ingredients (if I need to order something online, I’ll get distracted and it’ll never get done)
• easy to prep (same as above, but with cooking and chopping and measuring)
• tasty

With all of this in mind, it was time to comb through my local New England grocery chains and see what I could find. To my shame, almost everything ended up coming from Walmart, but at least I gave Hannaford the benefit of the doubt first!

The Ingredients

I wanted to experiment with guaraná powder for the caffeine source, but it’s not available locally. In future I’ll get around to ordering a bag.

My ideal first choice would’ve been the Sodastream Xtreme Energy syrup (very close to Red Bull flavor), but it’s been years since I’ve seen it at a store near me. Even were I to order it online, it seems that only the diet version may be available anymore, which is quite sad.

Anyway, after perusing my local offerings, I decided on Kaged Pre-Workout Sport (it even comes in blue™!). It cost $17 at Walmart for the equivalent of 3.76 g of caffeine, alongside some other elements I was happy to have like L-citrulline (which may help with my migraines), methylated B vitamins (I very likely have a MTHFR gene mutation), and taurine. Assuming that the product isn’t, you know, lying, this sounds like a good thing at a good price.

Next come the electrolytes.

I already keep a bottle of magnesium citrate on hand to sip against muscle cramps and the aforementioned migraines. You can find 10 fl oz bottles in various fruit flavors in different pharmacies and grocery stores. It’s sold as a laxative, but the dose we’re using per 12 fl oz of finished drink is only about 16% of the minimum clinical dose on the package… or less, if you like. I’ve personally had zero stomach upset while drinking 1 fl oz at a time, even by itself. Anyway, I got a 10 fl oz bottle at Walmart for $1.47.

A potassium source is, at first glance, much trickier to find on the pharmacy shelf. Supplements usually come in the form of caplets that usually max out at no more than 99 mg per caplet. That’s like the amount you’d find in 28 g of fresh banana—hardly useful for its role in countering sodium’s blood-pressure-raising effects (like most Americans, I eat way too much salty food for my heart’s good).

I assume potassium supplements offer such tiny amounts because hyperkalemia, too much potassium in the blood, can be so dangerous. This condition can cause an abnormal heartbeat or even stop the heart entirely, which is why potassium chloride is used in lethal injection in the USA. However, I also assume you’d need to consume a staggering amount of dietary potassium to be in any danger. WebMD cites the FDA in recommending adults don’t consume more than 4.7 g of potassium a day, and you’d need to take nearly 50 of those 99 mg caplets to exceed even that level.

All that said, “salt substitute” like the one Morton makes will give us all the potassium we need. In the case of the Morton product, the whole 88.6 g shaker contains about 45 g of potassium in a delightfully water-soluble form. Now, potassium chloride salt tastes vile (to me). Every time I’ve touched it to the tip of my tongue it’s resulted in my stomach turning painfully inside out. You’d think I’d have learned after the first time!

Nonetheless, 1/8 tsp of potassium chloride in 12 fl oz of this drink (we’re getting there, I promise) doesn’t turn my stomach at all. I can’t taste the inherent mineral bitterness and it instead just contributes to an overall saltiness. Though I linked a specific product above, I instead bought the Great Value version, $5 for 312 g.

Finally, because I didn’t want to use much of the pre-workout to limit the caffeine, I needed a flavorful liquid to tie everything together. You can use anything at all, but I chose cucumber lemonade (which may be the most refreshing liquid to ever touch my lips). I mix this about half and half with water so the end result isn’t too cloyingly sweet.

The Recipe Concoction

1. add 1 fl oz magnesium citrate to your sipping container
2. add 1/8 teaspoon potassium chloride-based salt substitute
3. add 1/4 scoop pre-workout
4. add additional liquid to taste and volume

Some Nutrition Facts Per 12 fl oz

• 47 mg caffeine
• 295 mg magnesium
• 305 mg potassium
• 6 mg methylated B12 (437.5% DV)
• 875 mg L-citrulline
• 500 mg taurine
• 16.25 g sugar (from 5 fl oz mixer)

All this for $0.56 per 12 fl oz serving, coming well under my budget. There’s a bit of an initial setup price ($22 between the preworkout and salt substitute)… but that also happens to be roughly the same price as buying a 12-pack of Celsius.

A friend described this quest of mine as “unemployed behavior.” I hope that’s not an omen.