From the most visible woman writing about weightlifting today, a "profoundly engrossing" memoir and manifesto about how lifting helped dissolve her allegiance to diet culture; taught her to be at home in her body; and led her to grow every kind of strength (Elizabeth Greenwood).
In A Physical Education, Casey Johnston recounts how she ventured into the brave new world of weightlifting, leaving behind years of restrictive eating and endless cardio. Woven through the trajectory of how she rebuilt her strength and confidence is a staggering exposé of the damaging doctrine spread by diet and fitness culture.
Johnston's story dives deep into her own past relationships with calorie restriction, exercise, and codependency. As she progresses on her weightlifting journey, she begins to eat to fuel her growing strength—and her food cravings vanish. Her physical progress fuels a growing understanding of how mainstream messaging she received about women’s bodies was about preserving the status quo. Previously convinced that physical improvement was a matter of suffering, she now knows it requires self-regard and patience. A little pushing at a time adds up to the reawakening of parts of herself she didn’t even know were there.
A Physical Education asks why so many of us spend our lives trying to get "healthy” by actively making our bodies weaker. Casey Johnston is a voice for those of us who feel underdeveloped and unfulfilled in our bodies and are looking to come home to ourselves.
Casey Johnston is an award-winning writer and cultural critic. Her work covers the intersections of a diverse range of topics, including politics, identity, health, technology, power, womanhood, and embodiment, and has earned critical acclaim from numerous outlets.
Casey grew up in the foothills of the Adirondacks, and received her Bachelor’s of Science in Applied Physics from the Columbia University engineering school. She has worked in media for 15 years, as a senior tech/science/health editor at The Outline; a senior health/tech editor at the New York Times’ Wirecutter; and as the culture editor at Ars Technica. Most recently, she was the editorial director of health and lifestyle coverage at VICE.
In 2016, Casey started a science-based column about strength called Ask A Swole Woman, which now lives within her newsletter, She’s A Beast (shesabeast.co). In December 2021, she published LIFTOFF: Couch to Barbell (couchtobarbell.com), a book and training program for total lifting beginners who want to feel stronger and build a more meaningful, functional relationship with their bodies.
I had such high hopes for this, as a woman who lives for weight lifting/power lifting, and has worked so hard to escape diet culture/ an ED. I really wanted to see myself in these pages--the healed version of myself. But I found this book to be really triggering, in a way that surprised me. I think there is a really slippery slope between diet culture and fitness culture, and sometimes leaving one disorder is an invitation to another. The other is disguised in terms like "bulking" but it involves the same obsessive counting and tendencies. I thought given the title that Johnston had 'escaped diet culture' but there was an awful lot of talk about not just counting but specific numbers. I don't think she ever stops counting. This is a really simplistic way of describing this book but at times it felt like she was saying: "I stopped having harmful eating patterns and got to lift heavier and bulk and so now I can eat all the fries and ice cream I want!" That isn't how bulking works, and I wish she had explored the inner work and difficulties one who has had an ED goes from experiencing the bodily changes that accompany eating more, and quite frankly, the difficulty of eating more/"forbidden foods." Instead, the text felt disjointed, and there were random sections about her dating life/ things that didn't feel related at all. I am glad women are lifting, but I fear it is a slippery slope to leave one harmful pattern and enter another, all for "lifting heavy."
I think the book could’ve used a little bit more work on the autobiographical sections (specifically the more narrative stores- her mini reflections are really well done), certainly with how they blend with the science and culture writing, but regardless, I fucking loved this. I did a little of the audio and physical, and one of my favorite reading experiences of this year. She’s tremendously talented, and I think this is the book I will continuously recommend for people new to or considering lifting weights. Making this space feel more intellectually accessible is quite a significant barrier for people, but I think Casey does a phenomenal job at speaking to those many points of internal conflict and anxiety. Love this book!
Before she took up weight lifting, Johnston was a runner. Not because she loved running, not because she even liked running, but because she thought she had to be to fit the mold of Thin Delicate Woman that she'd spent most of her life striving to be. She was sick of running, and she was sick of dieting.
For a long time, "weight loss" formed my entire conception of my body. Either I was small enough (and always getting smaller), or I was a disappointment. [...] But it's hard to recognize how narrow your worldview is until you become receptive to having it challenged. (loc. 110*)
This is one of those books that is so far up my alley it's knocking on my door. I'd read a couple of chapters and then go to work and talk to one of my coworkers about the books (plural!) I was reading about weightlifting and similar exercise, and then later in the week I'd meet the same coworker for a weightlifting class and spend half the class thinking about my form and half the class spacing out a little and half the class thinking about how much of those books did and didn't apply in the moment. (You do the math.)
I come at weightlifting from a different place than Johnston, and I doubt I'll ever end up in the same place as her, but there are definite intersections. I genuinely love running and spin classes and just cardio generally (give me spin classes or give me death). If I go to the gym on my own I will look at the weights and tell myself I should, but then I don't, because...I could lift something heavy, or I could get on the elliptical and read, and I'd rather read. But I go to weightlifting partly because it's good for my bones and partly because it's very social (you haven't lived until you've heard one of the middle-aged women in the class lecturing an overconfident barrel-chested man in too-tight shorts for lifting too much weight with bad form and not protecting his back) and partly because I'd like my arms to someday not be noodles (wishful thinking) and partly because, yes, strength training requires actually thinking about things like consuming enough protein and eating all the meals (two things that I have not, historically, been great at). I'm not committed enough to build up my weights much, or to abandon my cardio-happy routine.
But Johnston went all in. Not right away: She tested the waters first, did her research, and gave her body a chance to tell her if it was going to rebel from the change in routine (or regime). And gradually, as she gained strength and improved her form and got comfortable being the only woman lifting weights in the gym, she started to find that her relationship with her body changed—she didn't want to be thin. She wanted to be strong. And because she was a writer already, she knew how to dig into the research and science to figure out why things worked the way they did, and why they didn't work the way she'd always been told they were supposed to.
This leaves me with a lot to unpack. I already devote more thought that I probably should to ambivalence about what lifting weight does to the body, but I'm so terribly curious about the shift in mindset that Johnston describes. This doesn't inspire me to throw out my cardio classes (I made my knuckles bleed at boxing! Probably a sign that I'm doing something wrong, but also I'm proud of myself), but it does make me think that it's maybe time to actually check out the weight rack at the gym outside of class hours. Maybe. And chocolate protein powder in porridge sounds oddly edible...
*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.
Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.
As someone who has lost a significant amount of weight (on my own with no tools - yes, it was hard), I thought I would relate to this author's story. However, we definitely did not share the same mentality at the start of our respective journeys and the deep dive into her (imo disordered) thought processes prior to taking up weight lifting was not a fun place to go to with her.
I'm grateful I didn't have to overcome that mindset in my own path to fitness and I'm very glad the author found her way out of it. But I'm gonna say thanks, but no thanks to this book.
I *really* wanted to like this book and was initially willing to overlook the fact that the author is vain and too online for my personal taste. There’s some interesting tidbits in the first 2/3 of the book and despite some weird non-sequiturs (mainly involving her non-relationship with her father) there’s some decent information and a skeleton of a good book. Learning about the socialist workout clubs founded by the Turners was an interesting wrinkle.
The last 1/3 of this book is absolutely cursed.
The subtitle of this book is “how I escaped diet culture and gained the power of lifting” and I can say that she *definitely* has not escaped diet culture. There are so many references to calorie counting. Her description of bulking reads like a bulimic binge while her description of cutting reads like bulking’s anorexic counter. She praises a woman for dining only on a rice cake, she hounds her friends for not eating enough and finishes the scene with the line “no toxicixity on the bench.” No toxicity on the bench? This whole book is toxic.
If you are looking for a book to help you actually escape the pitfalls of dieting and learn to lift weights, please avoid this book. It’s full of disordered eating habits/thoughts, body dysmorphia, and scenarios that I found triggering and made me think insane shit like “maybe I should start counting calories again.” If you have gotten off the dieting train and learned to love lifting, welcome to the club i congratulate you, but don’t read this book. Whatever help/inspiration it may have is absolutely gutted by the back half of this book.
There’s a good book to be written about throwing off the yolk of diet culture and learning to love and inhabit a larger, stronger body. This, unfortunately, is not that.
Here is my honest option: Pros: - The books takes you through the fitness journey and self discovery. - There are facts and interesting statistics included in this book with scientific explanations. Also citations are included in the back which is great and love to see it as a scientist.
Cons: - Lacked structure half of the book, I couldn’t figure out where some of the stories were being presented and why they were important. - I don’t like the hate on classes and running. I think that they are great specially if you incorporate them into your workout schedule with lifting. - Ending felt anti-climatic and ending was very mediocre.
Overall, it’s a great book about self discovery in fitness. But I wouldn’t look at it as a motivational book for which is what I was kind of hoping for.
One part memoir, one part inspirational/self-help guide to lifting - I enjoyed this! I got into lifting after reading some of Casey’s old Ask a Swole Woman columns and then getting Liftoff, her lifting guide/program, so I’m sure there’s an element of preaching to the choir here, but I enjoyed coasting on through this book. While the science/history sometimes got a little more technical than I prefer in a book without citations, I appreciate that she didn’t skimp on the lifting/eating/general lifestyle details, and some of the memoir elements were more poignant than I expected (in a way I appreciated!).
When I say she didn’t skimp on the details - she talks specific weights and calories here, and goes in-depth on her history of disordered eating, so would recommend readers with a history of ED make sure they’re ready before they read this. Similarly, the distressing death of a parent is addressed - I found it moving and frankly relatable but if that’s a topic of concern I think it may help to know about that element going in.
I've followed Casey since her Ask a Swole Woman column in Vice. In this memoir, she shares more about her personal weightlifting journey as well as lots of technical information about the sport. I deeply related to her early mindset about weight and exercise, and wish I could start some training again (I stopped when my son was born over 3 years ago). I especially recommend this book for women who have or aspire to any type of fitness routine.
July 17 2025: inspiring! no-- really!!! LIFT HEAVY THINGS!!! IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL GREAT
July 29 2025: It has only been 12 days and I already have to buy heavier weights??? what the fuck! And I can do pistol squats now for the first time ever!? I'm sorry-- this is fucking ridiculous. read this book. and then lift weights three times a week. and you will metamorphose into something completely fucking different. I like to imagine that I am Arnold Schwarzenegger, especially when I eat fried chicken after lifting the weights. you can see him do this in the great movie Pumping Iron. Casey talks a lot about food she eats as well. it's just a book that will make you feel good and then if you do like she did and lift the weights and eat the chicken and ice cream, you will become a cool dude instead of a neurotic mess. it's fucking magic!
I just made the mistake of looking at other people's reviews and I'm sorry they don't relate to the story but also I am happy for them that they do not relate to the story because it fucking sucks to struggle with your self-image and eating and people impressing on you that you are only valuable if you are thin. It fucking sucked ass to be on the brink of death for years freezing my ass off running in the rain and then eating a salad with fat-free vinaigrette afterwards. all that shit. fucking horrible. I have walked through the fire. so has Casey. I hope other people who are walking through it or have been through it we'll pick up this book and then pick up lots of other things that are heavier and set them back down repetitively on a regular basis.
also my extreme enthusiasm for this book coupled with other people not relating to it makes me wonder if autism is involved here. lifting weights and counting things are both very soothing activities for autistic people. highly recommend. also reading books. like this book. I don't relate to how she was sort of afraid of the gym but also I get it.
I enjoyed the mix of her personal journey, exercise science, and commentary on gender issues within strength training. I’m feeling inspired to by “eat like a big beautiful horse” to fuel recovery and tell everyone I know that if we measured powerlifting by endurance reps rather than single rep max, women on average would outperform men.
Her description of how intimidating it is to enter the barbell area of the gym, alone, inexperienced, and outnumbered by beefy people was very relatable. I remember seeing people doing barbell lifts a few years ago and thinking I would *literally never* have the strength or courage to do that. Hanging out with amazing, fearless, strong women changed that thankfully!
Casey Johnston is a journalist and fitness writer in her late 30s who has built an online following for her advocacy of strength training to women. In her 2025 memoir A Physical Education: How I Escaped Diet Culture and Gained the Power of Lifting, she narrates her shift in her late 20s from chronic undereating and obsessive running to an equally intense devotion to lifting weights.
Raised by a mother who prized thinness and strict calorie restriction, Johnston internalized the belief that women should always strive to be smaller. She spent years eating 1200 calories a day and running relentlessly before discovering through internet research that strength training wasn't just for men. She joined a gym, traded hours of weekly cardio for three short lifting sessions per week, and dramatically increased her food intake, sometimes up to 3500 calories daily while bulking. Over the subsequent years, she gained substantial muscle mass and began competing in lifting competitions.
The memoir blends Johnston’s personal narrative with bits of strength training history, but its framing as “escaping diet culture” is complicated. Rather than rejecting obsession, Johnston seems to have exchanged one extreme (thinness at all costs) for another (pursuing “swole” status and ever-greater strength goals). Nutrition in her account is often built on sheer calorie volume and protein maximization - much of it through "ultra-processed" junk foods - rather than healthy eating. Readers looking for balance, or a blueprint for sustainable fitness, may find the message lacking.
I related to Johnston's story in parts. Like her, I’ve cycled between cardio and weight training phases, also sometimes taking things too far and ending up with injuries (I think we share the personality trait/flaw of tending to eschew moderation and maintenance in favor of extremes and perpetually striving toward ever-more-elusive goals). In my early/mid 20s I obsessively did cardio, and predictably got sidelined by overuse injuries. Then in my late 20s/early 30s, strength training finally clicked with me (via Les Mills BodyPump - low weights, high reps, choreographed to music in a group fitness setting), but I overtrained to the point of overuse injuries when doing Les Mills at home during the pandemic with improvised equipment. I got back into strength training around a year and a half ago with a focus on whole-body training, moderation, injury prevention, and gradual body recomposition alongside weight loss, but truth be told, I don't enjoy it in the slightest, and enjoy my moderate cardio sessions in lovely weather outside so much better. This is where self-discipline ("the ability to do what you should do, when you should do it, whether you feel like it or not" as Brian Tracy says) kicks in. Reading Johnston’s book didn’t convince me that chasing bulk or competition is for me, but it did remind me of the value of maintaining strength work as part of a balanced routine that also includes cardio and flexibility.
My statistics: Book 259 for 2025 Book 2185 cumulatively
Hi Casey Johnston, were you trying to rip me open emotionally? Or are we pretending this is just informative nonfiction...?
As someone already engaging a lot with health science/eating disorder content (books, podcasts, etc), I felt very prepared for this one and nothing really shocked me. What made a difference for me in this book, as compared to that other content, was her perspective and the balance she struck between gym stories, personal struggles, and science. I felt so connected with her in the human moments before and between the gym journey- like crying in the best buy bathroom or trying to stay safe as a woman on dating apps- that by the end of the book I was thinking "okay how is this going to translate for her in the gym?" (yes correct, I do now hate myself lol)
Her chapters and descriptions of her eating, especially in the bulking and cutting chapters, could absolutely be sensitive to anyone who has struggled with eating. However I don't necessarily fault her for that. This is, above all, her story ABOUT struggling with eating and exercise. The small moments describing her mindset while eating or her disentangling her emotional responses from food were both stressful and kind of comforting (for someone experiencing the same journey), and if anything I wanted more of these moments and less of the handbook-style calorie numbers and protein descriptions. While the science throughout the book was very informative, it was her emotions and like personhood that kept me engaged.
And I just want to give it up for the chapters involving her mom. If it hurt as much to experience and write about as it did to read (probably more), Casey my dear I'm sending you flowers. And let's include the dad chapters in there too because what the hell man. Those were beautiful and DEEPLY sad chapters. Starting the book with avoiding your dad's calls in college and not knowing why your consciously doing it and having us find out slowly, over the course of your lifting journey, the completely understandable reasons for avoiding that relationship?? stab me in the CHEST. It read almost like a real therapy journey- with lifting being the therapy- where at the start, all you know is the feelings and physical response and by the end, your brain has processed and delivered all of the details and reasons in HD clarity. I have read some reviews of this book saying they disliked the jumping around and disorganization of the content, but honestly that was the best thing about this book!
All in all, I really loved this story! It is definitely not for everyone, but it was (unfortunately) for me. If I start lifting in 2025, mind your business <3 thank you netgalley and grand central publishing for the audio arc!
This was my introduction to Johnston’s writing. In this book, she discusses her experience with restrictive dieting vs eating well and lifting. Throughout, she brings in facts and history about lifting.
I really enjoyed this one. Personally, I grew up on bad diets of instant breakfast, special k cereal, and crash dieting so if you told me I could eat more and still be in shape I’d think it was a joke. I am a little scared to lift, but I know that strength training is so important, it really helps you as you age, and my doctor always suggests workouts for my ACL rather than jumping to surgery.
I think if you’re on the road to getting motivated to work out or are in your fitness journey, this is a good read for you.
Thank you Net Galley & Grand Central Publishing for an advanced copy.
I heard Johnston on a podcast and checked this out of the library on a whim - I’m glad I did! I hadn’t realized I was still holding onto a number of diet culture / anti-strength training ideas and this book successfully shook them loose. A special highlight for me was learning about the Turners, a group of German socialist lifters who thought strength empowered the people and competition in sports promoted individualism and “spoiled the child”. Iconic - and much better than the Ashton Hall hyper masculine / grind bro types. One thing I still wonder - is power lifting possible while still doing some cardio? Asking for myself. Johnston hated cardio so fair enough that she completely ditched it but what about us ballers? This is more a question for independent research though (which I will definitely be doing!) Thank you to this book for really hooking me on the concept and enticing me to learn more
I am interested in hearing from my weight lifting friends what they think of the weight lifting/eating vs. the cardio/low calorie culture we live in. I'm conflicted by what I read in this book. Parts of it were helpful and interesting: how it is ok to start weight lifting slowly and steadily, how important it is to eat post-lifting-session (something I struggle with) and how lifting is not just for men who want bulky muscles. I also enjoyed reading about the history of weight lifting and the various fitness movements of the past; it gives great context on how we ended up here in our current fitness culture. Other parts of the book gave me pause. How is it different to track calories for lifting vs. track calories for weight loss? The idea of bulking and then cutting for muscle gain seems very much like the diet culture that we are all surrounded by but in a different flavor.
I did like this book and it did give me the needed push to eat better (and to eat) post-lifting. I would have benefited with pictures/drawings of good lifting "form" and what she was trying to achieve as she described her learning lifting. I understand why her past with her family, dating life, work life was added but it needed a bit more editing to make it blend better.
Backstory - In late 2017, I (for reasons I no longer recall) had my interest piqued by the idea of doing exercise to become stronger, which I knew happened via some sort of inscrutable weight lifting process. I joined the YMCA and dutifully signed up for a personal training session. When the trainer asked me my goals, I said I just wanted to be stronger. "What do you mean by 'stronger'?" the trainer asked. I was confused about where the confusion lay. "Just...stronger? Like, lift weights and increase the weights so I get...stronger?" I ended up with a jumble of little exercises, none of which involved free weights, and I dutifully performed them for a few months before turning to the internet to try to figure out how to actually get stronger. After clicking around a fair bit on Reddit, I eventually found Casey's writing on weight lifting and inhaled it. This was what I wanted - actual, no nonsense (scientific, clearly communicated) information on lifting weight, getting stronger, and doing so while being a woman. Between Casey's advice and some of the myriad free lifting programs I found on Reddit, I was off to the races and I've never looked back (though I have waxed and waned in my dedication to actually doing workouts during various phases of life since). I myself ran the beta version of her LIFTOFF program and have gifted/recommended it to many others. I use her overnight oats recipe enough that it's taped inside my kitchen cabinets. I have consulted her extremely clear writing on how much protein we ACTUALLY need any time I am puzzling through nutrition/fitness info.
Given my long-ish history of inhaling Casey's writing, I wasn't actually necessarily planning on reading her book... I figured whatever it covered was probably something I'd already read elsewhere from her, or trod ground I already was familiar with. But my desire to support someone whose reading I admire won over and I snagged a copy of the book. To my delight, I actually couldn't put the book down - the personal memoir mixed with lifting history mixed with practical advice is extremely engaging and readable, as I should have known it would be. I'm a huge proponent of lifting for anyone, especially women, and if you've been at all curious about weight lifting, or wondering if there is a kind of exercise for women outside of cardio and pilates, or want to read about the process of someone coming to realize the goodness of their body outside of browbeating it into some sort of societally acceptable form, then you should absolutely read this book. And then you should lift some weights. :)
This book covers important topics about physical activity and the woman’s body. The importance of strength training and the physiological differences between a woman’s body and a man’s. Along with the societal ideals placed on women and what their bodies should look like. However through the middle of the book it dragged on. There were stories interwoven that I did not really enjoy. It was giving a history of sorts, but it was unclear to me what I was supposed to do with some of the information. Thank you to NetGalley for this advanced copy.
Maybe I'd like her blog more? Super interested in the lift heavy idea esp for perimenopause stuff. I found her relationship to fitness and her body and food hard to take. Even as it was meant to be an anti-diet kinda book it really felt like she "found this one easy trick" diet at the same time.
This is probably my issue but I was shook that a book about “escaping” diet culture had repeated references to my fitness pal and calorie counting without any nuance whatsoever.
As a longtime recreational athlete, this book really resonated with me. Johnston’s writing on rest and respecting limits was powerful. It reminded me of a time when I used to overexercise and pushed me to rethink what “healthy” training actually looks like. I love that she avoids sponsored content and viral gimmicks; her work feels steady, trustworthy, and genuinely on your side.
The only drawback for me was some of the calorie-counting content during her cutting phases — it felt too close to diet culture for me. But overall, this is a grounded, reassuring book that cuts through fitness noise and offers a more sustainable way to think about movement.
I’ve read every newsletter for years, her voice being the lone weapon in my sorta-fight against body/diet noise. The audiobook in her literal voice is great for mainlining that message (and for tuning out during the many very long and detailed passages on technique), although it did give me a great appreciation for the professional actors and narrators of audiobooks. Subscribe to She’s a Beast!
I didn't know anything about Casey prior to listening to the audiobook version (thank you to Netgalley for the ARC). Her journey to weightlifting and her experiences coming to terms with her relationship to exercise were the strongest parts of the book. The narrative jumped into other topics at times that felt disjointed- her dating life, loss of a parent, work life- that didn't feel authentic to the story. Anyone interested in understanding or venturing into weightlifting will gain something from her experience. However, I would caution anyone who struggles/recovering with eating disorders, body dysmorpohia, diet culture to proceed with caution. Her movement from restricted eating to at times bulking and eating more than 3000 calories a day glossed over the emotional elements- she does not share or did not experience what many may view as triggers or roadblocks along that path.
I try not to leave reviews, because in the grand scheme of things, my opinion matters very little. But I do want to say if you already lift weights and avoid diet culture, there is nothing new here for you.
It felt scattered, each chapter it's own essay really. There was family, boyfriend and work drama. It was a part of her story, but I just had no interest. She does go into the history of things, but I honestly skimmed most of the book.
If you need inspiration to accept yourself as you are and you want to lift weights, this book is for you.
This is such a helpful, beautiful memoir. I really think any person could find lessons and wisdom in it but as a millennial woman, whoo, it hits hard. I love how honest and vulnerable Casey is with her experience and how artfully she threads the science of lifting heavy things and the importance of food as fuel. I think it would help a lot of people drop some just plain incorrect things about fitness and food we've been told for decades.
Well done, Casey! I requested my local library order a copy of this book for our collection and will recommend it to patrons and friends.