The smell of espresso wafted out of Kilo D’Cofi on the corner of SW Sixth Ave. and Pine Street while we did cherry pickers, butt kickers and lunges. The 7 p.m. sun glinted off the windows of Big Pink, and Burnside’s evening traffic was at a low hum.
Then, we hit the ground running.
This was what my first Thursday with Caminando Running Club looked like: well over 30 people, all geared up, ready to run, walk and connect with other members of Portland’s Latinx community.
I’ve been running with Caminando since September, seeing how the club — and others like it — are building and bridging the Latinx community all over Portland by promoting exercise and self-improvement through movement.
When Cristian Vargas, the club’s founder, started it in 2022, there were just six people at their first run.
Little did he know how quickly it would grow.
“We just went out, not knowing how many people were going to show up,” Vargas said. “Six of us showed up, and we walked and ran. And then from there, we posted on social media, and that thing just spread like a wild virus. People were like, ‘Yo, what is this? ’ And so the following week we went from six to 12 people.”
Within two weeks, they had 22 runners. For Vargas, this spoke to something: the community was already there — it just needed the space to breathe.
“Here's the thing,” he said. “If you build a platform and a space for people, people will show up. And that's exactly why the community is showing up, because there hasn't been a whole lot of momentum or a whole lot of spaces for us to show up and be us.”
The first day I showed up, I thought of all the ways I might stick out. Will I be able to keep up? Will there be people my age? Will I embarrass myself?
It was an experience of intimidation that many others feel.
Maria Clemente, the founder of LatinasRAPortland, a women’s Gresham-based running club which meets weekly, notices this when new runners reach out to her.
“I feel like a lot of girls still message me and they're like, ‘OK, can I join the running club? Like, I don't run fast, though. Or can I walk?’” Clemente said. “I want everybody to feel welcome. I don't want them to feel intimidated. I want them to know that they have a space that they can go to, either if it's to walk, to run, walk and run.”
That’s what the spaces Clemente and Vargas are creating have: an environment free of intimidation, which allows members to grow as runners within their community.
“The most amazing thing that I've seen, I want to continue to see, and want people to continue to just acknowledge, is there have been people that just started walking with the club,” Vargas said. “And now they're running. Like they don't even care how fast or how slow they are — they're just running.”
The way their groups are building community feels palpable; it’s more than just the running. Caminando, for example, changes their routes every other week so the runners can discover and connect with Latinx-owned businesses across Portland, from cafes like Kilo D’Cofi, to bars and restaurants like Tropicale, La Familia and Chilango PDX.
Vargas and Clemente also organize group runs to bridge their communities. One morning in September, over 70 people from Caminando and LatinasRAPortland showed up at Kilo D’Cofi for a long run.
Halfway through, we stopped at the Tilikum Bridge to rest. We formed two parallel lines, making a tunnel with our arms for the others to run through as they came to a stop.
There was a deep sense of support: What mattered was everyone was out there, on a chilly, overcast Saturday morning above the Willamette, being good to their bodies alongside their community.
“It's really nice to see that we do have a really big community that are there to make you feel comfortable,” Clemente said.
We were welcomed back with coffee and tamales — a time to socialize and enjoy familiar culinary comforts while our legs and heart rates cooled off.
On the next run, which started at Montgomery Park in Northwest Portland, Vargas announced plans to put together two teams to participate in Hood to Coast, Oregon’s famous long-distance relay race.
I at once felt both intimidated and energized.
With changes in terrain — not to mention a longer-than-normal distance — it’s not an easy run, and will require dedication and consistency to do well. But running alongside a warm and motiaving community makes it feel achievable.
“The reason why this [club] started is to motivate, inspire and accelerate people’s mindset of how far they can reach their goals,” Vargas said. “Because the body is capable of doing so many things if you believe it — and if you do believe it, you'll achieve it.”
Until then, I’ll be trotting around North Portland — maybe even listening to the Syphon Filter 2 soundtrack, which Vargas adamantly swears by for best running music — to get ready.
It’s only the start, but already, I feel at home.
Riley Martinez is a member of the editorial board. He can be reached at martini24@up.edu.
