On March 26, 2020, it’s hard to write or think of anything beyond the COVID-19 pandemic. Those of you who are on the front lines of the battle may find it strange that I am just a bit envious. Having stepped back from clinical medicine nearly a decade ago, it is frustrating to feel that there is little I can do to help other than offering to venture into the grocery store to shop for friends and neighbors who feel more vulnerable than I do.
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Here in Maine, we are blessed by geographic isolation that for the moment seems to have damped the surge from the metropolitan centers to our south. But, the virus is here and, as the state with the oldest population, we are beginning to be affected.
For nearly a century, we could count on the outhouses here in Maine would be stocked with outdated Sears Roebucks catalogs when toilet paper was in short supply. Many outhouses remain but Sears Roebucks and its catalogs have disappeared from the landscape. I take a little comfort in the learning that I’m not the only human on the planet who can envision the horror of a week or even a day without toilet paper.
So I am left to sit on the sidelines and watch how my fellow Mainers are coping with the anxiety, depression, and loneliness that come with the forced social isolation. It is pretty clear that walking outside has become the coping strategy of choice. On a usual March day the walkers comprise a skimpy mix of dog walkers and wannabe arctic explorers testing the weather-defying capabilities of their high-tech outerwear. But, to say the least, this is not a usual March and the number of walkers has surged bolstered by gym rats forced off their sweat-drenched ellipticals and treadmills.
Dr. William G. Wilkoff
This increase in outdoor activity is clearly perceptible even on an overcast day, but it is far less than one would expect given the magnitude of the disruption to everyone’s routines. But, when the sun comes out! The doors fly open and onto the sidewalks and quiet rural roads spill scores of people I haven’t seen for months and in some cases decades. One can almost hear John Denver singing “sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy.” Everyone is smiling and waving to each other. It feels as though the community has, at least for a few hours, been able to throw off the burden of angst that the pandemic laid on us.
There has been a good bit of research about seasonal affective disorder, and I suspect that almost everyone has heard about the value of sunshine for depression. But it is unfortunate that the psychological benefits of just being outdoors – even on an overcast day – has gone pretty much unpublicized. As part of their marketing strategy, a local company that specializes in recreational clothing and gear is encouraging its customers to become “outsiders.” It may be that the pandemic will make more people realize the psychological benefits of being active outside. As physicians we should continue to encourage our patients to be more active and remind them that they don’t need to wait for a sunny day to do so.
Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” He has no relevant financial disclosures. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.