I read a lot of memoirs, but it’s been a while since I’ve read a true biography. The Front Runner is about the life of Steve Prefontaine, one of the most famous runners of all time. I blitzed through this book, no pun intended… Going into this book, I only knew the lore - Pre goes hard from the start and never relents. But of course there’s more to any athlete than that - his closest friends said he was different (quieter, sincere) one-on-one than in front of the media. This book eloquently walks through the big races in his career, beginning in high school. It’s well-written, and I truly was on the edge of my seat turning pages as fast as I could because I didn’t know how they turned out! For example, I had no idea if Pre had won an Olympic medal, or even made it to Munich.

I also learned a lot about track and field more broadly, learning about how the AAU viciously controlled athletes’ bodies, schedules, and career paths. Steve fought for sport changes on behalf of all athletes - he wasn’t afraid to speak up, or didn’t care what others thought of him. This book doesn’t delve too much into Nike, but Phil Knight essentially made Pre one of the first “paid athletes,” finding a loophole that allowed him to retain his amateur status. I recommend pairing this book with Shoe Dog, if only because that book is also phenomenal. Pre also has some iconic quotes that I must reiterate here:

“To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift.”

“A lot of people run a race to see who is the fastest. I run to see who has the most guts.”

Fifty years?

Yes. Fifty years.

It has been a half-century since Steve Prefontaine died in an auto accident in Oregon in 1975. That means he'd be 74 in 2025.

For those who weren't around yet to know who Steve Prefontaine was, it's tough to explain. He might have been one of the greatest runners ever produced by America. Steve, or as most people called him, "Pre," held almost all of the United States' records in distance running at one time or another.

But it wasn't a case of what Prefontaine did. It was how he did it. Steve really was a front-runner. He usually took the lead in races rather quickly, and buried the hopes of the competition in virtually no time at all. None of this last-second sprint to the finish stuff for Prefontaine. Most of his races were well over well before that. It's almost as if he were saying, "Do you have what it takes to stay with me? No? Bye."

Prefontaine remains something of a legend in track circles, with some books and two movies covering his career. Now Brendan O'Meara has revisited that era with his comprehensive book, "The Front Runner."

This starts at the beginning, with Prefontaine's family life. It sure sounds like it wasn't exactly a household filled with love and happiness. "Mommy Dearest" had nothing on Steve's mother, who used to beat him when he did something that was perceived to be wrong. Sometimes the mother asked her husband to take care of disciplinary business with a strap. Steve's older sister (nine years) often protected her little brother, taking the hits in his place.

It's easy to think of Frank Shorter while reading this. Shorter had what looked like a peaceful childhood from a distance, but the future Olympic marathon champion had a monster of a father who tried to abuse most of the residents of a small town. Running became an escape for Shorter and Prefontaine, as they literally could run away from their troubles - at least for a while. Were there many other runners who, pardon the expression, followed that path?

It took a little while for Prefontaine to figure out what sport would be a good fit for him once he reached the high school years. Eventually, though, Steve ended up in running, and - what do you know? - when he started winning races, the beatings stop. That sounds a particularly effective motivating force. Prefontaine quickly moved up the ladder, and by the time of high school graduation he was clearly on a different level than any one else in his native Coos Bay, Oregon - and perhaps most places in the country.

By the time he arrived at the fabled running program at the University of Oregon with its legendary coach Bill Bowerman, Prefontaine was ready for the next step. Here's how good he was: Steve was on the cover of Sports Illustrated at the age of 19 in 1970. Prefontaine rampaged his way through the college ranks with the goal of reaching the Olympics. He did make the 1972 American team that went to Munich, and finished fourth in the 5,000 meters. That spot is always a good news/bad news spot. Fourth in the world in anything is very impressive, but no one remembers who finished fourth in an Olympic event.

Prefontaine finished up his eligibility at Oregon after that, which must have been something of an anti-climax. Today he'd be making enough money from outside sources that he could continue to run competitively for many more years. But back in those primitive (or, if you prefer, just plain stupid) days, athletes in the so-called Olympic sports had strict rules about compensation or almost any kind. Most athletes had to get on with the rest of their lives by finding work, just to pay the bills.

Prefontaine fought the old system as best he could, and caused a few cracks with his words and actions. Again, ever the front-runner. While his death in 1975 stopped his personal quest in that area, the Amateur Athletic Union lost most of its power to determine eligibility by the end of that decade. Remember the first rule of amateurism: it's a way to keep money out of the hands of the people who actually earned it. Maybe Prefontaine would have gone on to win an Olympic medal or set a world record, the two missing ingredients on his resume.

Author Brendan O'Meara certainly put in an effort for this one. He found more than 100 people who sat down for interviews on the subject of Prefontaine, and mined a variety of other sources. Obviously some of the people who were part of Steve's life back then aren't around to talk about it now. But I can't say the finished product is missing anything obvious in that sense.

"The Front Runner" portrays a man who in a sense could be called track and field's James Dean. Prefontaine and Dean were both big, charismatic stars as a young age who were taken from us too soon. The book might have lost a little of its potential audience after 50 years, but those in running circles who are looking for the full story will enjoy this thoroughly.