Imagine the Earth as a cosmic runner on a celestial treadmill, circling the Sun in its annual marathon. This cosmic racetrack spans about 940 million kilometers, and whether you are a newborn or a centenarian, the finish line arrives in precisely 365.25 days. Time, in its relentless march, does not care about the state of the runner – it is an impartial timekeeper in our universal stadium. Unless we drop out of the race, we all finish at precisely the same time every year.
Here’s where things get interesting: while the track remains constant, we, the runners, the individuals in the human race, change dramatically over time. The real mind-bender is that while we struggle to keep up with basic life, time keeps marching at the same relentless pace. The Earth does not slow down its cosmic dance just because your back hurts or your busted knees do not work either. Deadlines still loom, birthdays still sneak up on you, and somehow, it is always tax season again.
It is almost like the universe is playing some sick resource management game. “Here’s your annual allotment of time,” it says, “but we’re going to keep decreasing your energy levels. Good luck with that.” And we are left scrambling, trying to cram more into less, wondering how we ever had time for hobbies or, you know, a social life.
Imagine you are a shiny new car, fresh off the assembly line. Your engine purrs, your gears shift smoothly, and your fuel efficiency is at its peak. You zoom around the solar racetrack, accomplishing multiple tasks with minimal effort. This is you in your prime, a well-oiled machine capable of incredible feats within that 365-day lap.
Now, a few decades later. You are still making the same lap, but something is changed. Your once-pristine engine is now coughing and sputtering. Your gears grind a bit, and your fuel efficiency has taken a nosedive. This is the essence of aging – increasing entropy in our biological systems.
In terms of physics, we are dealing with the concept of mechanical efficiency. Our body’s ability to convert chemical energy (food) into mechanical work (actions) decreases as we age. It is like trying to power a Tesla with a steam engine – you will still move, but it won’t be pretty, and it certainly won’t be efficient.
Let’s quantify this with some napkin physics. Suppose you were young and could do 100 tasks per solar lap, requiring 1,000 units of energy. Your efficiency rating would be a respectable 0.1 tasks per energy unit. You can get several workouts in a day, along with your work, and raise your rambunctious young family.
Fast-forward 60 years. You’re lucky to manage 50 tasks with the same energy input. Your efficiency has halved to 0.05 tasks per energy unit. Now you are happy with one workout, a little reading time, and a little time of playing with the grandkids before your early bedtime.
This deterioration is akin to mechanical wear and tear. Just as a car’s engine loses compression over time, our cellular machinery accumulates damage. Mitochondria, our body’s power plants, become less efficient at producing ATP, the energy currency of cells. It is like trying to run a modern smartphone on a battery from the 1990s – technically possible, but woefully inadequate.
The cruel irony is that as our energy efficiency plummets, our energy demands often increase. Maintaining basic biological functions – the equivalent of a car’s idle speed – requires more fuel as we age. It is as if our personal gravitational field intensifies, making every movement an uphill battle against an invisible force.
Yet, the Earth keeps spinning, completing its solar lap with unwavering precision. The cosmic treadmill does not slow down or offer a gentler incline for its aging runners. This disconnect between our internal time – measured in declining energy and capability – and the unyielding external time creates the illusion of time speeding up as we age.
In essence, we are dealing with a fundamental mismatch between biological and astronomical timescales. Our personal energy graphs slope downward while the Earth’s orbital period stays stubbornly constant. It is a cosmic joke played on a universal scale – a reminder that while we may be star stuff, we are also subject to the unforgiving laws of thermodynamics.
As we continue our laps around the sun, remember: the race does not get longer, but the runner certainly gets slower. It is up to us to make each lap count, efficiency be damned. The Earth’s going to keep on spinning, and time is going to keep on flying, which we cannot change. We can change how we use the energy we have left. Maybe it is time to say “screw it” to the things that don’t matter and double down on what does. After all, even if you double down you are only going to achieve a tenth of what you want to….#NeverFearTheDream
simplebender 