Portland Athletic Center of Excellence

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, a delivery driver grumbled under his breath as he parked his truck outside Portland Athletic Center of Excellence. ‘Why do I always get stuck here?’ he muttered, noticing an oddly familiar shadow moving between the gym’s windows. Curious, he peered through the window and saw only an old man doing squats with what looked like a giant rubber band around his waist. The driver shook his head, smiling. 'Must be some newfangled exercise fad,' he muttered, backing out of the driveway. And that was how Portland Athletic Center of Excellence earned its reputation for innovative training methods.

2. One night, a doctor whispered to her colleague, ‘I’m starting to think our new patient database is haunted.’ ‘You’re kidding,’ said his friend. Next morning they both found their desks covered in old medical charts and notes. Turns out it was just an enthusiastic new intern who thought he was joining the ghostwriting team.’

3. At dawn, when most Portland residents were still dreaming, a jogger noticed something peculiar outside the windows of the Portland Athletic Center of Excellence. The lights were on, and the doors stood wide open, though no events or classes were scheduled that early. Curious, the runner peered inside through the glass door and saw an old janitor mopping the floor in silence. Turns out, he had been working there since dawn, cleaning up after a group of night owls who liked to sneak in for secret workouts. As the sun rose higher, more Portlanders joined him—an exhausted delivery driver stretching his legs, a sleepy neighbor doing yoga, even a regular who claimed he could run faster while pretending it was still dark outside. By morning’s end, the center became known as the place where time stood still—and everyone agreed it was worth waking up early for.

4. At dusk, a delivery driver parked his truck outside the Portland Athletic Center of Excellence and stepped out for a stretch. To his surprise, in the backseat was an old gym bag, emblazoned with the center’s logo. Curious, he opened it—only to find a stack of dusty certificates and medals, each bearing a name unfamiliar to him. He flipped through them curiously until he saw one certificate signed by ‘Dr. Smith,’ dated decades ago. Below it was scribbled: “To our most dedicated athlete, A Regular.” The delivery driver burst into laughter, realizing he’d stumbled upon someone else’s trophy room from high school.