Joe Wicks in 1987 and 2025. Later photograph: Simon Webb/The Guardian. Styling: Andie Redman. Grooming: Jo McKenna. Archive photograph: courtesy of Joe WicksJoe Wicks in 1987 and 2025
Born in Epsom in 1985, Joe Wicks is a health and fitness coach and author. He studied sports science at St Mary’s University and started posting recipes and workouts on social media in 2014, while working as a personal trainer. His Lean in 15 videos went viral, leading to a bestselling publishing career. During the pandemic, Wicks hosted daily livestreamed PE lessons, raised more than £1m for charity and earned an MBE. His 13th book, Protein In 15, is out now.
I was always covered in food as a kid – a real messy eater. This was probably readymade spaghetti from a tin. Our family didn’t have the greatest diet – we were on benefits, a lot of our money went on Dad’s heroin addiction, and Mum was young and didn’t know much about nutrition.
Mum left home at 15 and was living in a squat when she met Dad. They had my older brother, Nikki, when she was 17. A year and a half later, I came along. We lived in a one-bedroom council flat in Epsom, and I was straight on formula milk and weaned on pre-made jars. As I grew up, my diet consisted of ultra-processed foods like potato waffles, baked beans, spaghetti hoops, crispy pancakes and frozen pies. There wasn’t a lot of fruit and veg at home, but I had unlimited access to a cupboard full of chocolate, crisps, Iced Gems and Wagon Wheels. I would raid it as soon as I came in from school. Even as an adult, I really struggle to eat junk food in moderation.
I was definitely an anxious little kid. As well as Dad’s addiction, Mum had her own mental health issues – eating disorders, anxiety and OCD. We had a very clean house – it was like an Ikea showroom. She was strict about everything – I’d get told off if I didn’t put my shoes in the cupboard or hadn’t made my bed in the morning. It felt like most days I’d come in from school and she would be deep-cleaning the cupboards. I wasn’t allowed to make much noise and there weren’t any sleepovers or birthday parties at ours. I was quite on edge, and me and Mum would row a lot.
At school I was hyperactive, loud, very cocky, always swearing, screaming, shouting; generally climbing the walls and looking for attention. I don’t know if it was my diet, or how my brain was wired, but I was useless when it came to academic subjects like maths, English and science. Unless it was technology or PE I was a pain in the arse. There were a lot of detentions.
My teen years were the hardest – that was when I started acknowledging the reality of my family situation. I could tell when Dad was relapsing and felt let down every time he’d disappear or lie. I worried it was going to go on for ever; that he would never get clean. Puberty was also the time I realised movement helped me process what I was feeling. I used to run two miles to school. I would turn up sweating, but I didn’t care as it was my release. Nobody talked about mental health back then, but I knew I was calmer once I’d done some exercise.
My childhood definitely shaped my approach to drinking and drugs – I was really worried that it was going to affect me in a similar way as Dad. Thankfully, it didn’t, but it has made my attachment style quite anxious. I was never single, because I always wanted the security of being in a relationship. I loved feeling close to somebody.
It’s my biggest fear, losing my family. I don’t want to realise I’ve spent too much of my life distracted by work
I started running boot camps in my mid-20s. I was determined to be my own boss, and I didn’t want to work in a leisure centre for a tenner an hour. At the time, I was living at my dad’s flat in Surbiton and would leave the house at 5.15am to get to Richmond. Some mornings I’d set up; it would be freezing and raining and not a single person would arrive. But it didn’t put me off. I’d show up every Tuesday and Thursday morning at 6am. I always had this positive voice in my head that kept saying: “Keep going and someone will come next week. The week after they might bring a friend.” Eventually it became a decent business. At its peak I was earning £1,000 a month.
I was 25, happy and pursuing something I loved. Then: boom! Social media came along and my career turned into something bigger. My intention was never to be an influencer, but by 2014 I had 50,000 followers on Instagram. That’s when a publisher reached out and said: “I love what you’re doing and I really believe you could do a great book.” I didn’t have any confidence that I could be a successful author – especially considering what I was like at school – so I was amazed when Lean in 15 ended up selling 1.4m copies.
The week that lockdown was announced, I was supposed to go on a tour of schools in the UK. I was chatting to my brother Nikki and said: “I’ve got an idea. I’m going to do a live workout on YouTube on Monday and I’ll call it PE With Joe.” A few days before I was due to go live, I was on my motorbike and smashed into a brick wall. I broke my hand. Even though I had a brace on, I had to see PE With Joe through. The first workout had nearly a million live connections. From then on, I did it every day, without fail, even though sometimes I was exhausted and I wanted a day off.
Now, success to me is stability and connections. Having nice food, and the heat and gas on; the things that I didn’t experience as a kid. I want to be an honest, loyal husband. I used to think that I would never get married as all I’d ever seen growing up was divorce and affairs. But everything changed when I met Rosie.
Being a good dad is my main focus, too. With four kids, life can be exhausting. Recently I’ve started going to bed at 9pm, which means I wake up naturally at 5am and I’m energised. I can do my workout before the kids are up. Getting ready doesn’t take long – I don’t put any products in my hair, just coconut oil on my skin and a bit of chamomile conditioner. Then after 7am, it’s full-on until bedtime. The kids don’t stop talking, asking questions, especially as we’re home schooling them.
I’ve done a lot of healing when it comes to my relationship with my parents. They are separated, so I spend time with them individually, but I am very conscious that one day they will be gone and I don’t want to have any regrets. I am probably quite needy, but I am always trying to pull them aside and saying: “Come on, let’s hang out and create a memory.” It’s my biggest fear, losing my family. I don’t want to realise I’ve spent too much of my life distracted by work, and that I’ve run out of time.
When I look at that picture, I think about the care and love a kid needs, and what a chaotic house I grew up in. But my memories of that time aren’t of sadness and misery; it was normality. I now have a better understanding of everything my parents were going through. I know addiction wasn’t a choice for Dad, and Mum has been on her own journey, too. She can even cook now – because she’s got all of my books!
