One of my favorite Olympic memories involves a runner who was the last to cross the finish line. Derek Redmond was an elite athlete who had a chance to bring home a medal in 1992 as Great Britain’s 400-meter representative. After an ­injury-plagued career, Redmond seemed ready to leave a lasting legacy at the Barcelona Games. He had recorded the fastest time in the first heat and won his ­quarter-final race. Redmond started well in the semifinal, but about 150 meters into the race his hamstring snapped, and he collapsed in agony. Medical personnel rushed to his aid, but Redmond waved them off. He struggled to his feet and began to hobble around the track. He was going to finish the race. Cheers rang out for the actual winner of the race, but then the crowd of ­sixty-five thousand in the stadium began to comprehend the drama unfolding of a solitary figure limping in agony toward the finish. The spectators rose

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