Speed of Time

Preston Ball

Dr. Ellis

EN 387

February 6, 2018

The Speed of Time

I caught a little bit of air as the golf cart bounced. Ten or fifteen feet in front of me were Jerry and Ethan. As they drove ahead I followed a safe distance behind. “Where exactly are we going?” I yelled. No response. All I heard was the humming of the golf cart engine and the faint buzz of cicadas in the Florida pines around me. The ride got bumpier as I followed Jerry and Ethan off the concrete path and briefly into the grass before driving into the pine straw. Suddenly Jerry, who was at the wheel of the cart in front turned abruptly to the left, sliding for a second, and then pulling up a few yards forward and putting the cart in park. To his left was a tall sturdy looking pine tree.

I quickly followed Jerry. I turned the wheel hard to the left, however the cart barely turned as I slid much longer that the cart before me. I turned the wheel harder. As I did the back wheels slid around the now locked front wheels, then the cart gained traction, and flew right into that sturdy pine tree to Jerry’s left. Slowly and slightly disoriented, I stumbled out, and looked at the dent in the hood. It was barely noticeable. I escaped what could have been a disaster.

I tell this story as an illustration, not to say that I am a bad driver, because I have never actually been in a car wreck, but instead to demonstrate a fundamental reality about time. The whole sequence of events I just described probably didn’t take more than twenty or thirty seconds. But in those moments it felt like time moved in slow motion. I can recall almost every detail. It felt as if I knew the cart was going to hit the tree for an eternity, but in reality it occurred so quickly I was unable to even hit the break before it was too late. There are many moments in life which are mere after thoughts where minutes fly by faster than the blink of an eye, while other moments seem to inch forward at a snail’s pace.

Contemplation of my personal experience of time has made me really wonder how time passes on Mars for Mark. The immediate answer is that because Mars is farther away from the sun, it takes far longer to complete an entire cycle around the sun on Mars. Therefore, quite literally years go by slower on Mars. But what is more interesting is how time passes for Mark as he waits to be rescued. Mark says “I’m faced with spending at least four years here if I am going to have any hope of rescue,” (Weir 12).

One can only image the will power it takes a person to preserve what feels like an eternity. Time seems to inch by when I am waiting for the last ten minutes of a boring class to expire. My best guess is that time for Mark on Mars must move so slowly. Mark is waiting endlessly for a day which may never come, and trying to live as long as he possibly can, just to give himself a chance.