Somehow we are still having the “candy as fuel” conversation like it’s brand new.
Someone posts a fun snack. The comments light up. Someone else declares “real food is better.” A third person swears they fueled their last long run on dates and vibes. And then, almost on cue, those same runners end up frustrated, bonking, dealing with GI distress, or wondering why they hit a wall despite “fueling consistently.”
This is not a mystery.
This is math, physiology, logistics, and context all refusing to be ignored.
I love candy. I love real food. I do not love pretending that anything with carbohydrates automatically converts into marathon performance. At some point, we have to move from internet algebra to real-world outcomes.
Why Elites Aren’t Racing With Gummy Clusters and Dates
Let’s get this out of the way early.
We do not see elites fueling with Nerds gummy clusters, dates, or pocket sandwiches. Not because they’re joyless or overly sponsored, but because elite racing is an efficiency problem. They’re running at intensities where digestion is already compromised, and there is zero room for guesswork.
If candy and high-fiber real food were truly optimal at race intensity, elites would be using them. They’re not. They rely heavily on drink mixes and gels because predictable absorption beats novelty every time.
This isn’t elitism. It’s pattern recognition.
The Carb Math That Breaks the Spell
Performance fueling generally lives around 60–90 grams of carbohydrates per hour. For an average five-hour marathoner, that’s roughly 300–450 grams across the race.
When you translate that into popular “fun fuel” options, the illusion breaks quickly.
Hundreds of Sour Patch Kids.
Dozens of Swedish Fish.
Thirty-plus dates.
Seventeen Uncrustables.
At this point, you’re not fueling. You’re catering.
All of that food has to be carried, handled, not dropped, chewed, swallowed, and digested while your body is actively pulling blood away from your gut because you are running for hours. No amount of optimism changes this math.
No, They Don’t Magically Cover Electrolytes Either
This is where someone inevitably says, “But these have sodium too.”
Sure. Technically. In the same way a garden hose technically hydrates a wildfire.
Candy and most real-food options contain trace electrolytes. Trace. Not race-day amounts. They’re also wildly inconsistent. You cannot reliably meet sodium needs while also hitting carb targets using candy unless you’re doing advanced mental math mid-run and licking salt packets like a raccoon.
Electrolyte needs and carbohydrate needs are related but separate. Trying to solve both with gummy candy is how runners end up underfueled, underhydrated, cramping, and still convinced they did everything right.
Algebra still does not equal PRs.
“But I’ll Pre-Unwrap Everything and Carry It”
No, you won’t.
Please explain how you’re carrying seventeen sandwiches through a road marathon. Where are they living. How are they not warm, smashed, soggy regret by mile ten. How are you eating them at race pace without stopping, choking, or questioning your life choices.
Even candy has limits. Sticky hands. Melted pieces. Dropped fuel bouncing into the street. Missed intake because your hands are busy grabbing cups or your stomach is already overwhelmed. Every piece you planned but didn’t eat is fuel you never actually got, which means your strategy was flawed before GI distress even entered the chat.
Fiber, Fat, and the Predictable Path to GI Distress
Fiber does not fuel you during a run. It slows gastric emptying. Fat and protein slow digestion. Volume increases fullness. Stress hormones reduce blood flow to the GI system.
Stack those together and suddenly people are shocked that runners feel bloated, crampy, nauseous, or urgently aware of every port-o-potty on the course.
Dates are a great food. Thirty to forty-five dates during a marathon is not resilience. It’s a gastrointestinal science fair project with a very predictable conclusion.
When runners realize forcing this feels awful, they often swing the other direction and underfuel. Blood sugar drops. Stress hormones rise. Digestion gets worse. Then the narrative becomes “I have GI issues” instead of “this fueling plan does not scale.”
Where Candy Does Belong
Before this gets misread as anti-candy, let’s be clear.
Candy can be useful. Strategically.
Shorter runs where total carb demand is low. Easy runs where you’re topping things off. Speed sessions where quick carbs and a mental cue help. Counting reps with candy can work beautifully. It reduces psychological friction and keeps fueling approachable.
Candy can also be a bridge for runners who are scared of gels. That matters.
But candy is a supplement, not a system.
It can live inside a fueling strategy. It cannot carry the entire load of long runs or races without breaking down under its own volume, fiber, and logistical chaos.
Long Runs Are Rehearsals, Not Fantasy Camps
Long runs exist to practice race day. Pace, hydration, fueling, all of it.
If something works on a 45-minute run but falls apart at two and a half hours, that’s not bad luck. That’s feedback. Short runs are forgiving. Races are not.
Trail environments can mask some of this. Slower pace. Longer aid stations. More tolerance for solids. Even there, most experienced trail runners still rely heavily on drink mix and gels because efficiency matters when fatigue stacks up.
Let’s Talk About Cost and Accessibility Honestly
Yes, running fuel can be expensive. Some engineered fuels are pricey. Maurten is expensive. Even mid-range gels and drink mixes add up over time. That matters.
But here’s where the conversation often goes sideways.
Cheap does not automatically mean accessible if it doesn’t work.
If a cheaper option prevents you from hitting carb targets, meeting electrolyte needs, or keeping your gut calm, it isn’t saving you money. It’s just shifting the cost into missed workouts, blown races, extended recovery, burnout, and frustration.
There’s also a quiet math problem people avoid. When you look at cost per gram of usable carbohydrate, many drink mixes are actually cheaper over time than repeatedly buying candy. Gels feel expensive because they’re single-use, not because they’re inefficient.
Accessibility isn’t about telling runners to “just eat whatever.” Accessibility is education, strategy, and honest options that actually scale.
What Accessibility Looks Like in Practice
This part matters to me deeply.
I’m an Indigenous coach and athlete. Representation and access in running are not abstract ideas to me. They’re lived experience. The conversations about who gets seen, who gets supported, and who gets left out already live on my IG grid, and I’m not shutting them down now.
One of the ways I’ve worked to close the gap is by doing the work, not just saying the words. I reach out to companies and ask for donations. I advocate for my athletes. I share those resources openly with my community to remove barriers and help people run stronger, faster, happier, and safer, especially in Oklahoma heat and humidity where underfueling isn’t just uncomfortable, it’s dangerous.
I also share the abundance I receive through ambassadorships or unsolicited donations because hoarding resources while preaching accessibility doesn’t help anyone.
Accessibility is not a comment you drop when science makes you uncomfortable. It’s a practice. It’s using your access to open doors instead of guarding them.
Fueling can be expensive.
Bonking is more expensive.
Underfueling is the most expensive option of all.
You can care deeply about accessibility and still tell the truth about what works at race intensity. Those things are not in conflict unless we let them be.
Candy can be part of the plan.
It just cannot be the plan.
Fuel boring. Race strong. Eat the candy when you’re done.
Call to Action
If this post made you realize your fueling plan has been more vibes than strategy, my Fuel Like You Mean It guide walks you through carb targets, electrolytes, and realistic setups that actually scale to long runs and race day without wrecking your gut. It’s designed for real runners training in real conditions, not idealized internet scenarios.
If fueling has already gone sideways and you’re dealing with chronic fatigue, stalled progress, or constant GI issues, the LEA Protocol helps connect the dots between training load, fueling, recovery, and long-term health so you can stop guessing and start rebuilding.
Because fueling shouldn’t be the thing that holds you back.