Lessons in Artifical Sweeteners and Humility

Emerald nuts have
artifical sweeteners.

Last year, I went out for a run in the trails near my house. On the way back, about two miles from my home, I thought, “I feel great. I am a really good runner. I’m going to run even faster.” About 30 seconds later, I found myself splayed on the ground, leg scraped, elbows bleeding. I no longer felt quite as good about myself. The same thing happens to me every time I try to fix something with HTML code. I feel really good about my computer skills and then, when I preview my work and the font has suddenly increased to bold, italicized, 42 pt midparagraph, I realize that there’s a reason why I’m not a computer programmer.

Low and behold, I was feeling all proud of myself and superior about my general avoidance of artificial sweeteners last week. Then I visited my parents this weekend and they had the ginormous size of Emerald Cocoa Roast Almonds from Sam’s Club. (These’s almonds are nutastic, BTW.) I got out my trusty Fooducate app to see the nutritional report card while I was devouring the nuts. They got a B+. I felt even better about myself.

Then I looked at the Fooducate assessment. The dark-chocolate roasted delights contain “controversial artificial sweeteners and preservatives.” Upon closer inspection of the ingredient list, I found the culprit—the dreaded sucralose (codename Splenda). I had so many questions about this. Why would you add artificial sweetener to a product that isn’t marketed as diet? Are artifical sweeteners even cheaper than corn syrup? Why did Fooducate give this product a B+ if it contains artificial sweeteners? How much artificial sweetener do I eat without knowing?

There are really two morals to this story. First, if you avoid artificial sweeteners, make sure you check the label closely. Even if it’s not a “diet” food, it still might contain these brain-altering chemicals. Second (my personal lesson that I apparently will never learn no matter how many times I repeat it), the universe will always conspire to prove me wrong every time I think too highly of myself. Sorry universe. I am not a great runner, a computer programmer, or a perfect eater. Please stop tripping me.