It was just another day on the streets of Portland, taking in the sights along the way. The consecutive streak has now reached 4,324 or 11.84 years, according to the runeveryday.com ticker. At this point, my only goal is tomorrow, meaning I’m alive, healthy, and able. I thought I would recount some of my observations from today’s 3.1 mile adventure, with slippery leaves everywhere as the result of a light mist. The weather is a perfect set-up for Halloween, with a touch of fog and a full-moon expected. However, nothing will be scarier than election night. 

At about the half-mile mark I noticed a delivery at the Oregon’s Finest pot store. It is one business along my route that has thrived in these pandemic times with a steady line of customers waiting for entry, even at 8 a.m. I pass by seven days a week at this time. It’s surrounded by other shops and restaurants that simply didn’t make it through these past seven months of virus-hell. It struck me as odd that an organic tea truck was making deliveries at a pot store, unless it was some kind of cannabis-infused product. It was at this moment that I suddenly realized that I had never seen a marijuana delivery truck – for good reason. It was a clever disguise to protect the driver and company from certain theft. Now, I know how the marijuana gets from the fields and greenhouses to the store – in a tea truck. 

At the one-mile mark, I spotted another delivery truck advertising a company called ProtoCall. There are apparently two completely different companies here in Portland using this play on the word protocol – a mental health service and a commercial air conditioning provider. Since this particular van was more discreet in appearance, I’m assuming that it represented the firm that provides crisis intervention and counseling services. It makes sense because my run takes me through a part of town that is filled with the homeless and troubled. In fact, a guy with a bull horn came out of his tent this morning, ranting with amplification about people going through his garbage. He definitely needed a Pro To Call. It’s always good to get out of that area and into the more serene setting of Waterfront Park.

I also noticed several crews boarding-up windows at the half-way point of my run. This is probably in anticipation of election night riots. The city is uncharacteristically covered in ugly graffiti and unsightly trash. Temporary fencing has been set-up to protect Federal buildings and historic statues. Our Mayoral race sadly involves a choice of two undesirables, just like the Presidential battle. Much of this hatred will be expressed on Tuesday night, as the elements of politics, Halloween, a full moon, time change, and Coronavirus all come together on the Portland streets. I can’t wait to get to Florida. 

At the two-and-a-half mile mark, I picked up a dime that had been sitting in the street for days. I had passed it several times earlier this week thinking that surely someone would pick it up. I’ve stopped collecting pennies that for years were a highlight of my daily runs – winks from angels. However, I began to have second thoughts with all the viral threats and now only stop for neglected silver. It gave me something to look forward this morning – like a treasure hunt. The dime was still there, so I claimed it for my coin jar, after a bit of scrubbing. It’s still good to get paid for running, even if it’s only a dime. Thus concludes another day on the run.