"That's an Order, Honey!"

"My dad started running...after my mom ordered him to lose weight."
(Stephanie Simon, quoted in a Wall Street Journal article, "Still Running After All These Years")

Dr. Harvey Simon is a man obsessed. The Newton, Massachusetts internist has run ten miles a day for thirty years. He has not missed a single day, even when suffering from broken toes and crippling back spasms. He has run through blizzards, ice storms, and hurricanes. As a doctor, he knows that he's subjecting his joints and bones to far more abuse than they were meant to handle, and he admits that he would never advise his patients to do what he does.

As a former runner, I found Dr. Simon's story fascinating, because I know how easy it is for a habit---even a good habit---to turn into an obsession. (Just because a little bit of something may be good doesn't mean that a lot is better). But as someone who writes about marriage, I was struck by the fact that, for Dr. Simon, it all began when his wife "ordered" him to lose weight.

Maybe it's just me, but I find something troubling about a husband or wife ordering his or her spouse to do something. If I ordered my wife to lose weight, she would have every right to feel that I was being obnoxious and presumptuous. Obnoxious because someone who needs to lose weight doesn't need to be reminded of it. And presumptuous because my "order" implies that I'm in a position of authority over her.

Think about it: who has the authority to issue orders to us? When you're a child, your parents do. When you're in the military, your commanding officers do. When you're at work, your boss does. When you're in the hospital, your doctors do. If you're unlucky enough to be in jail, the warden and guards do.

But your spouse is not---or shouldn't be---the equivalent of a parent or a drill sergeant or a prison guard. I'm not saying that your spouse isn't entitled to have opinions about your appearance, your habits, or your lifestyle. But the right way to deal with these opinions is either by keeping them to yourself (which is usually the best way, unless they're truly eating away at you), or by gentle persuasion.

Gentle persuasion can take a lot of forms, but it's always characterized by an underlying respect. You're treating the other person as an adult. You're not embarrassing him or nagging him. You're not saying that you're perfect and he isn't. In fact, the best form of persuasion in lifestyle matters is to say that you could both stand to lose some weight, or exercise more, or watch TV less, or whatever the issue may be. And then you attack the problem together, and celebrate each other's progress toward the agreed-upon goal.

The only exceptions to the gentle persuasion rule would be cases in which a person's actions are creating an immediate danger to himself, to his spouse, or to innocent bystanders. Thus, if your spouse is threatening you with bodily harm, you call 9-1-1 first and reason with him later (or better yet, forget the reasoning and move out immediately). If he's dead drunk and about to take the wheel of the car, it's OK to grab the keys and "order" him to lie down in the back seat until you get home.

But if he's twenty pounds overweight, or wearing clothes he should long ago have donated to Goodwill, or still sporting that Fu Manchu mustache that looked so cool in 1978, you may not like what you see but you don't have the right to order him to do something about it. Because not only does an order imply lawful authority, it also implies punishment for disobedience. If you defy your boss, you can get fired. If you disobey your commanding officer, it's thirty days in the brig. But what is the punishment for disobeying your spouse? The silent treatment? Banishment from the bedroom? Divorce? Unless you're prepared to put teeth into your orders, don't issue them.

And don't forget the old adage about not wishing too hard for something. Dr. Simon's wife did indeed get him to lose weight, but at the cost of creating a crazy man.