Because the average time isn’t a rule. It’s a story. It’s the tale of 50,000 people who all had different reasons to run. Some were fast. Some were slow. Most pooped in a plastic bag at mile 17.
That’s the truth about the average. It’s the sum of all these weird, human moments. You can’t average a costume party, a charity bake sale, and a footrace. But the London Marathon does.
So next time you hear “average time,” don’t think of a number. Think of the guy in the rhino suit who stopped for a selfie with a dog. He’s the real champion. And he took exactly the time he needed.
Go run, you glorious, average genius.
