Issue #32

Words by Cory Ohlendorf | Photography courtesy of Otsuka Pharmaceutical

You see it everywhere in Japan. In various size of bottles and cans, in powdered form ready to be mixed up, in vending machines and convenience store coolers. I’m talking about Pocari Sweat. With its sky-blue branding and cryptic name, this electrolyte-rich sports drink has become a staple in Japanese life—not just for athletes, but for office workers, students, salarymen, and even the occasional hungover tourist. But where did it come from? And how did a drink that sounds like it was bottled straight from a jogger's headband become such a national icon?

Pocari Sweat was introduced in 1980 by Otsuka Pharmaceutical—the first company to introduce plastic pouches for IV solutions. When a company researcher named Rokuro Harima was hospitalized on a business trip to Mexico, he was dehydrated but only given regular carbonated drinks to consume. He later noticed a doctor drinking a pouch of IV solution to rehydrate himself after finishing surgery, which gave him the idea … what if you could make a medical-grade IV fluid that’s drinkable and tasty?

At the time, another section of Otsuka Pharmaceutical was developing a citrus juice that came in powdered form. When it was added to the drink, the bitterness dissipated. They modified that formula with Harima’s notes inspired by intravenous drips and the need to replenish fluids and electrolytes quickly. The resulting drink was developed as a “body rehydration beverage”—a kind of oral IV in a bottle. Researchers then actually climbed a mountain in Tokushima to test the drinks and found the slightly sweet, salty formula was refreshing, energizing and easy to drink while exercising.

They named the concoction Pocari Sweat. “Pocari” was merely chosen for the word’s cute, peppy sound (it means nothing) and “sweat” (to signify what it replaces). It may have sounded off-putting to English speakers, but it hit different in Japan—almost futuristic, functional and oddly refreshing. It was one of the first drinks marketed not for taste, but for utility. Both then and now, the company advertised Pocari Sweat as an isotonic, which means “containing essential salts and minerals in the same concentration as in the body and intended to replace those lost as a result of sweating.” It wasn’t just another soda—it was a health product. And that messaging worked.

The formula contains a number of ion-heavy ingredients, including sodium, chloride, calcium, potassium and magnesium. According to Otsuka, it’s not carbonated (to make it easier to drink), there’s no caffeine, and it contains little sugar, zero fat or protein, and has only around 25 kilocalories per 100 milliliters. Since it contains no chemical preservatives, a bottle should be consumed on the day it is opened. In other words, this stuff is pure. Gatorade, on the other hand, not only has food dyes and artificial flavors, there’s a range of stabilizers and preservatives.

The timing of Pocari Sweat’s release was perfect. The blue-and-white cans and bottles first hit store shelves across Japan just as awareness grew among the bubble economy’s growing middle class about the need for a healthy diet and exercise, which fueled a boom in activities such as jogging and golf. While these newly minted athletes might’ve needed a sports drink, the Japanese consumer simply weren’t aware of the category, so they didn’t know what to make of Pocari Sweat when it was introduced. And then there was the blue packaging. It was meant to evoke the feel of crashing waves of water, but blue was hardly every used for food packaging at the the time and people thought the cans looked like motor oil.

But early marketing campaigns pushed forward, focusing on the dangers of dehydration. After all, Japan’s humid summers, packed trains and culture of overworking made dehydration a real concern. Pocari Sweat positioned itself as the solution to “internal dryness,” an almost poetic health threat. Television commercials and posters targeted everyone from people with hangovers to sports enthusiasts. The company handed out free samples at saunas and sporting events—over 30 million samples in the first year alone. Salespeople went door-to-door to promote it and eventually, the efforts paid off. In the mid-1990s, Pocari Sweat became Japan’s first domestically produced non-alcoholic drink to hit a cumulative shipment value of over $1 billion.

While it was originally intended for athletes, clever marketing helped expand its appeal to everyday life: rehydrating after a bath, after sleep, after a long night out. It became a drink associated with self-care. Over the years, Pocari Sweat ads have only reinforced this connection, often leaning into minimalism and emotion—waves crashing in slow motion, a lone runner sweating in the sun, a young woman pausing to breathe, then taking a sip.

Now, for many Japanese people, Pocari Sweat evokes a feeling of nostalgia and calm. It has also developed a cult following among expats and travelers, who first try it out of curiosity and end up strangely addicted. There’s even a small but passionate community online dedicated to discussing its surprisingly soothing flavor. Otsuka has leaned into this affection. The pharmaceutical company still owns the brand and the formula remains remarkably unchanged—and that’s the point. It doesn’t chase trends. It just works. It’s no longer merely a sports drink. It’s part of the cultural fabric.

If you’re the type that doesn’t like the feel of heavy, greasy sunblock, then this is the protective moisturizer for you. The lightweight Japanese formula hydrates like lotion yet absorbs into skin like a serum. It offers a broad-spectrum SPF 50 for easy, all-day protection from ultraviolet rays, along with daily skin stressors like pollution and pollen. The ladies like it because it preps skin nicely  as a smooth makeup base but guys appreciate the skin-soothing feel and how it easily rinses off.

Waku waku (わくわく) is one the Japanese language’s onomatopoeic words that expresses a feeling of excitement. It’s often translated as “thrilled” or “eager with anticipation.” It captures the feeling of happiness and bubbling enthusiasm. The term has gotten popular, thanks to the adorable telepathic Anya Forger from the manga/anime series Spy x Family. Anya often expresses herself through spontaneous bursts of energy and "waku waku" has become something of a catchphrase for her.