"I have such a high caffeine tolerance," I announced to my partner as I cracked open a can of Celsius. "These probably won't really affect me."
I'm a coffee addict. As an Australian, it's required by law. I down three iced lattes daily, a habit I refuse to break even as my bank account groans. But lately it's become impossible to ignore the siren call of energy drinks.
Walk into most grocery stores or gyms, and you'll find a wall of sleek cans with the caffeine of roughly three espresso shots, zero sugar and sans-serif pledges to accelerate metabolism. These aren't the Monsters or Red Bulls of gas stations and skydivers past. Dynamite wrapped in chic pastels, they provide ammunition for a day of pulverizing emails and crushing reformer Pilates. In a culture obsessed with optimization, these drinks are here to help you everything-maxx while embracing wellness vibes.
"Live Fit," declare the Celsius cans. Bloom, another energy drink, promises to make you "bloom into your best self." These days, you're as likely to see a #cleanliving West Village girl clutching a can of rocket fuel as you are a BMX-mounted daredevil or a nocturnal gamer. Energy drinks have been athleisure'd.
A Celsius is "a productivity symbol in my eyes," said Natalie Bochi, 27, a publicist in New York. "I'm like, 'I'll have a can, and I'll get the job done.'"
Energy drinks are more popular than ever. Sales were up by 42% in 2025 from 2021, according to the Beverage Digest Fact Book. Celsius and its sister brand Alani Nu ("Nu" stands for "nutrition") lead a wave of trendy beverages that fit into the broader demand for functional products like protein bars and Zyn nicotine pouches. "I don't think this is a fad," said Bonnie Herzog, a senior analyst covering beverages at Goldman Sachs.
Aside from a couple of regrettable Red Bull-vodkas in college, I'd never consumed energy drinks. But the only thing I love more than coffee is winning -- and I worried all these glowing, hyper-efficient millennials were getting a leg up.
So for one week, I traded my beloved lattes for cans from a range of brands. I drank 16 and a half in total.
By midweek, I had nearly lost my mind.
Zero Sugar, Maximum Caffeine
If you were recruiting someone to sell a wellness product, my gym instructor would be an excellent choice. Tan, toned, twinkle in his eye, he looks like he should be handing out roses on "The Bachelor." So when, class after class, I saw this picture of vitality sipping a Sparkling Kiwi Guava Celsius, I thought, only half-jokingly, "Maybe that will turn me into that."
It only made sense to start with his preferred flavor. I took a swig and was struck by the jaw-clenching sweetness. It evoked kiwis and guavas like Twizzlers do strawberries. Afterward, my teeth felt a bit fuzzy.
But I was buzzing -- the caffeine hit me harder than coffee does. I could've cartwheeled down the corridor. Instead, I typed some emails very quickly.
I assumed I could drink one Celsius for every double-shot latte I'd typically consume. Nope. They're too loaded with caffeine. A 12-oz can of Celsius or Alani Nu contains 200 mg -- a little less than two Red Bulls or five Diet Cokes, and about 50-80 mg more than each of my lattes. Celsius labels state not to drink more than two cans a day.
"There's a lack of education about the impact [these drinks] have on our bodies," said Amy Stephens, a sports and eating-disorder dietitian.
Dr. Rekha Kumar, associate professor of clinical medicine at Weill Cornell Medicine, said most healthy adults can consume up to 400 mg of caffeine a day. Research supports the idea that coffee doesn't just make us more alert; it has anti-inflammatory, neuroprotective and metabolic benefits, too.
"We have 50 years of safety data on coffee," she added. "We have excellent marketing data on Celsius."
If you haven't heard, these don't contain a scrap of sugar! They're spiked with sucralose, an artificial sweetener that, according to the Food and Drug Administration's website, is about 600 times (yes) sweeter than table sugar. Nutrition labels don't disclose sucralose quantities. But this year, federal health officials recommended limiting intake of artificial sweeteners. New guidelines accompanied a government report citing research that linked sugar substitutes to conditions such as cardiovascular disease and Type 2 diabetes.
"Zero sugar doesn't mean metabolically neutral," Kumar said. A Celsius spokesperson said that sucralose has been determined safe for intended uses by the FDA.
For most of these drinks, the artificial flavors lingered in my mouth after I'd drained the can. Then I tried Alani Nu's Cotton Candy, which made the others seem like green juices in comparison. Kyle Watson, the chief brand officer for Celsius Holdings, said it's the most popular flavor. It might be the sweetest thing I've ever tasted -- and was the only drink I couldn't finish. Still, hot-pink bubbles on the can suggested a guilt-free treat: Zero sugar! B vitamins! Gluten-free!
When I asked Watson if she considered the brands' drinks to be wellness products, she said no, adding: "We are a choice people look to when looking for energy that is premium [with] zero sugar. We have essential vitamins." Watson called it "function-maxxing."
On the Moon
Jake Drwal, a fit 35-year-old who owns a snack-food company in Los Angeles, is careful about what he consumes: meat, vegetables, rice -- and Celsius. He drinks them purely because they provide a sharper kick than anything else he's tried. Coffee and caffeine pills, he said, "do not give me the same mental clarity."
If you also drink these solely for energy and not some other supposed wellness benefit, they deliver. On several occasions, I felt like my brain had been elbowed awake. Admittedly this was often tempered by a headache -- which Kumar said may have been triggered by a variation in caffeine dose from my usual coffee order -- and slightly sore teeth. (I'm a sleepy guy and I experienced a natural dip several hours after drinking these, like I do with coffee. I had no trouble sleeping.)
Two particular drinks made me feel most like my peppy gym instructor. Joggy's Solar Mango flavor was refreshing, like lightly flavored sparkling water. It was the rare drink that contained sugar (from fruit juice) instead of sucralose. My favorite Celsius, the not-too-sweet Peach Mango Green Tea, put springs in my sneakers when I downed it before a run.
One afternoon halfway through the week, I realized why people get hooked on these. After crushing two Celsiuses (Celsii?) in four hours, I reached a state that could be called euphoric. I had no idea what flavor the Cosmic Vibe one was evoking, beyond "red very sweet," but by the time I'd finished it, I couldn't have cared less. I was on the moon. I soared through a pitch meeting. I wasn't exactly jittery, but I was able to open my eyes extra-wide. I swear my hair got bigger, too, but that may have been a coincidence.
A few days later, I was back on planet Earth sipping lattes. I ditched the cans, not because I'm an angel about what I ingest. I just missed the taste of coffee, and the way it makes me feel. We're not talking about Evel Knievel here. For a guy who works from a swivel chair, I'm basically function-maxxing already.
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