ANOTHER LIE THAT BIG CORPORATIONS FED US!
From Diet Culture to Deadlifts: How Casey Johnston Reclaimed Her Strength
For years, Casey Johnston followed every so-called “rule” of health and fitness. She logged miles of running, meticulously counted calories, and treated food like the enemy—all in the name of control. To the outside world, she looked like the picture of discipline. But internally, she was locked in a constant battle with her body.
“It was antagonistic,” she recalls. “I was always fighting myself.”
That battle didn’t make her stronger—it made her weaker.
What began as a practical shift away from obsessive cardio and restriction grew into something much deeper—a radical redefinition of what it means to be strong. For Johnston, strength training wasn’t just about muscle; it was about reclaiming her body, her time, and her voice.
From Punishment to Empowerment
Before lifting, Johnston’s relationship with exercise was rooted in punishment. She didn’t work out because she loved it—she did it because she felt she had to.
“I was running constantly, eating very little, and still always trying to lose the last five pounds,” she says. “But I was always cold, my nails were brittle, I would black out when I stood up—classic symptoms of malnutrition.”
The tipping point came when she stumbled across a Reddit post from a woman who’d embraced weightlifting. She wasn’t bulky. She was strong, healthy, and—most importantly—happy. The post challenged everything Johnston had believed.
“I was doing twice the work and eating half the food. I thought, ‘I’ve tried everything else. Why not try this?’”
Facing the Gym—and Herself
Like many, Johnston was intimidated at first. “I felt like I didn’t belong. Like the equipment wasn’t for me. Like I had no right to be there,” she admits. But she kept showing up. Slowly, she learned the equipment, built confidence, and started eating to fuel her workouts rather than deprive herself.
As she gained physical strength, something even more powerful happened—she started listening to her body. For the first time, she wasn’t pushing her feelings down. She was tuning in.
“Running helped me avoid my emotions. Lifting forced me to pay attention. Every rep, you have to ask, ‘How did that feel?’ That check-in built a muscle I didn’t know I had—the one that notices how I feel.”
A Cultural Reckoning
A Physical Education isn’t just about Johnston’s personal transformation. It also interrogates the cultural forces that shaped her struggles in the first place.
Growing up in the 2000s, Johnston absorbed the harsh messages about women’s bodies—how they should look, eat, and behave. She also explores the little-known history of strength training, tracing its evolution from a collectivist, inclusive practice to a space often associated with hyper-masculinity and exclusion.
“The history of strength training in America has been shaped by everything from socialism to religion to military culture,” she explains. “It makes sense that something so powerful would be co-opted to serve dominant systems.”
Why Weightlifting Still Feels Radical
Johnston believes that the fitness industry’s reluctance to promote strength training for women is no accident.
“Dieting keeps us focused on how we look, not how we feel or what we can do,” she says. “It keeps us mentally and physically underpowered. Lifting helps you escape that loop. It shows you what you're capable of.”
And it’s not about being thin or even lean. Johnston emphasizes that we need both muscle and body fat to stay healthy—especially as women.
“The goal isn’t to look a certain way. It’s to live fully, feel strong, and show up for yourself.”
Strength That Goes Beyond the Gym
As Johnston lifted heavier weights, she started lifting herself out of toxic relationships, too. In the book, she details how her journey toward physical strength coincided with emotional healing, especially after leaving an emotionally abusive relationship.
“Lifting helped me build the habit of noticing my own feelings,” she says. “That eventually carried into other parts of my life—at work, in relationships, everywhere.”
Final Thoughts
A Physical Education is more than a memoir about fitness. It’s a bold, compassionate look at how women have been taught to shrink themselves—and what it takes to break free.
Johnston’s story isn’t just about weights or reps. It’s about reclaiming power, rewriting the rules, and learning to trust your body again.
Whether you’re new to the gym or a lifelong lifter, her message is clear: You belong here. Your strength is yours to define.
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