“Some people run a race to see who is the fastest. I run a race to see who has the most guts.” -Steve Prefontaine

I went to a running store recently to buy a new pair of running socks. I had been informed by my family’s fashion experts that the socks I previously considered my running socks came up too high on my ankles and made me look like a dork, particularly when I wore them with my favorite running shorts which, I was informed, were too short and made me look like a doofus.

On my most recent birthday, I was given a new pair of running shorts that come down nearly to my knees, and are evidently cool enough for me to be seen wearing in public. I figured that by buying new low-rise running socks to go with my new long-running shorts, I would have successfully eliminated both the dork and doofus factors from my running apparel. Interestingly enough, with my new short socks and long shorts, I‘ve ended up with exactly the same amount of exposed leg skin as I had had under my prior running clothes regime.

Not that buying a new pair of running socks is easy these days. There were about 50 kinds of running socks. The running store also carried an abundance of running shoes, running shorts, running tights, special high-tech, enhanced air-flow, moisture-wicking running singlets and a plethora of running accessories such as hand held water bottles, belt-held water bottles, stopwatches, heart monitors, headbands, reflective tape, patella tendon straps, wrist bands, waterproof running hats, windbreakers, and a variety of other items whose actual purposes were a mystery to me, including an interesting product called “NipGuards,” which consists of little adhesive pads designed to eliminate painful male nipple abrasions caused by running in high-tech, moisture wicking running shirts.

When I started running in 1973, the simplicity of the sport was something that appealed to me. I showed up for cross county tryouts in my freshman year of high school in a pair of white high-top Chuck Taylor All-Star sneakers, a pair of blue cotton gym shorts and a plain white JC Penney cotton t-shirt. Except for better shoes, my running attire hasn’t changed much over the past 30 years. Back when I started running, we’d throw on a heavy cotton, hooded sweatshirt if it got cold. If it rained, we got wet. We’d meet outside the gym every morning and every afternoon.

Our coach would tell us where we were running to that day, and off we’d go. If we got thirsty, we’d try to run by a park or school that had a drinking fountain. Otherwise, we’d stop at someone’s house and drink out of his or her garden hose. For a change of pace, we’d run up into the hills where we could intersperse our training with a friendly rock fight. If we felt like sprinting, we’d intentionally run down Dave DiMauro’s street because Dave’s neighbor had a German shepherd that chased anyone running past the house. I ran some of my best sprint times down Dave’s street.

In those days we idolized Steve Prefontaine, the University of Oregon runner who at one point held every American distance record from 2,000 to 10,000 meters. “Pre” won 3 NCAA cross country championships and four NCAA titles in the 5,000 meters. During his college career, he never missed a race or practice, and never lost to another American runner. He said that if there were somebody out there who wanted to beat him, they’d have to bleed to do it.

In the 1972 Olympics, the 21-year-old Prefontaine finished fourth in one of the most exciting 5,000 meter races of all time. Two years later, in the midst of preparing for the 1976 Olympics, he was killed in a one-car accident on Skyline Boulevard near Hendrick’s Park in Eugene, a tragic end to America’s best-ever middle-distance runner.

I thought about all that as I stood in line with my non-doofus, low-rise running socks, and wondered if Prefontaine would have worried about the height of his socks. I guessed that he wouldn’t, but I bought them anyway. I did pass on the NipGuards, though. A little healthy chafing never hurt anyone.

Tom Tyner writes a weekly humor column for this newspaper.