"The great ones find a way."

The quote is part of a tweet (opens in new tab) published by a rather famous writer on July 27, the day after Simone Biles abandoned the Olympic gymnastics team competition to take care of her mental health. The "great" he refers to is Kelly Strug, whose 1996 Olympic vault made headlines again this week.

Going into the final rotation, Strug performed in the vault despite an ankle injury. Her coach had told her that if she did not compete, the U.S. would miss out on the gold medal. She landed the technique in obvious pain. People stood up. Her coach carried her off the mat, and on YouTube, the video of her performance is titled "Epic Olympic Moments." (Open in new tab) The music is inspiring. We feel everything.

The writer talks about Straag's "grit" and "determination." Straag certainly had grit and determination. She was great. That moment was epic. That does not mean that she was determined, great, or spectacular in completing the leap while injured. Nor does it mean that Biles, who chose not to compete while battling mental problems, was not determined, great, or epic, as the author of this tweet implies.

It's easy to dismiss those you disagree with as Twitter trolls. This is one individual's tweet, with 9,600 likes. That's not an astronomical number. Not an astronomical number, but not negligible. The writer does not directly name Biles, but the tweet throws up a clear comparison between the two athletes. Strug is great, Biles is not. With the huge amount of support Biles is receiving online, it is easy to believe that this single message will fade into internet oblivion, never to be retweeted again.

The problem, however, is that this is not just one writer's opinion. This sentiment that the "great ones" will lead the way, even at great personal cost, permeates the American sports world. It is what many consider the embodiment of the Olympic spirit: keep fighting, no matter what, to achieve greatness. The more adversity an athlete endures, the more inspiring the victory. Because if Biles competes and wins an individual event, her Tokyo Olympic journey will be sensational.

But why should our athletes suffer to be considered inspiring? Why must they suffer until they win in order for their efforts to be considered an epic Olympic moment?

Every two to four years, when the Games are held again, we hear announcers and pundits utter the intangible but ever-referenced Olympic spirit. The Olympic Creed, the guiding principle of the Games, quotes Baron de Coubertin and defines it: "The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win, but to participate. Just as the most important thing in life is not to win but to struggle, so the most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but to participate.

But the competitive athletics community has hijacked and twisted this philosophy. It is not enough to "struggle" to the bottom of the standings. If you struggle to get to the top of the podium, you are an admired hero. If you struggle and actually lose, you are a ...... Yes, a hero. You are... Yes, you are a loser. One Texas attorney general labeled Biles a "national embarrassment" (opens in new tab). (This is the plot of every sports movie and a real-life athletics story. Losers. They are not content to be alone. Athletes who are battered and bruised, but fight back for glory. Sign us up. Of course, athletes at the top of their game fall short. That's the rule. No one signed up for an unhappy ending.

But in light of Biles' courageous actions this week, people are reconsidering "epic" Olympic moments like the Strasch. Perhaps it was the toxic, victory-oriented culture that injured Straughn, not the "Olympic spirit" as we would like to believe. " And Strug's case is by no means isolated: even on the same Olympic team, 14-year-old Dominique Moseanu had to do floor exercises after suffering a stress fracture in his tibia. (opens in new tab)

This year's Games were perfect for the age-old redemption plot: more than a year of social, political, and racial turmoil, contentious elections, and a virus that has claimed some 4.2 million lives worldwide (opens in new tab). In the midst of hopelessness, everyone clings to hope. But in reality, we are still reeling from more than 18 months of agony. The virus is still raging and taking lives. Athletes are not immune to this pain, nor to the pressure. They are still battling its effects, too, as the Games were postponed and their dreams moved a year later.

Also this year, we saw women athletes pushed to the edge of the cliff. We have seen them struggle under the crippling burdens on their shoulders. We make headlines about their greatness, but as soon as the narrative turns, some label them "failures" (opens in new tab) or "quitters." (opens in new tab) And four years later, if any of these despised athletes decide to compete again, we will likely use their current "shortcomings" as material for a sports fairy tale, their own awe-inspiring underdog story.

But what if instead of viewing these moments as failures, as comeback arc moments, we honor them as their own triumphs?

Biles made the courageous choice to abstain from competition in order to put her mental health first. After Naomi Osaka abstained from the French Open to protect herself from the press barrage that triggered her anxiety (she is under no obligation to share her reasons), she candidly admitted the truth that significant pressure played a role in her Olympic loss.

So the grand moment of this year's Olympics may not be Simone Biles standing at the top of the podium, gold medal hanging heavily around her neck. It was Ōsaka standing up for herself, being honest about her health and the pressure she is under. Katie Ledecky is snickering that she is no longer the queen of swimming, despite her impressive win in the women's 1500-meter freestyle. But I want everyone to chill out," she said. People may feel sorry for me that I didn't win everything, but they should be more concerned about the other things going on in the world, about the people who are really suffering. (Opens in new tab) This year's Olympic moment included athletes who spoke loudly about how their value as human beings is greater than the price of a medal. It also includes moments from athletes who didn't even make it to Tokyo but are speaking out for change. (Open in new tab)

This is not to say that the athletes who overcame personal struggles and ultimately triumphed were not inspiring or deserving of being called epic moments or deserving of glory. They undeniably are. This is to say that the winning part should not be the deciding factor.

So let's add these moments to other historic moments: in 2016, American track runner Abby D'Agostino helped New Zealand competitor Nikki Hamblin get back up after the two collided and fell in the women's 5000 meters, the last and second from last, but as when they sealed their fate as an inspiring nation. Also in 1992, 400-meter runner Derek Redmond tore his hamstring midway through the race with a painful tear.

What these moments have in common is that they are bigger than sports. They represent something that cannot be put on a podium.

Stepping back from competition to protect one's mental health, standing up for one's truth, and even trying and failing are not obstacles on the path to greatness. They are moments of greatness itself.