Gorge: My Journey Up Kilimanjaro at 300 Pounds
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Gorge: My Journey Up Kilimanjaro at 300 Pounds is the raw story of Kara’s ascent from the depths of self-doubt to the top of the world. Her difficult but inspiring trek speaks to every woman who has struggled with her self-image or felt that food was controlling her life. Honest and unforgettable, Kara’s journey is one of intense passion, endurance, and self-acceptance. In Gorge, Kara shows that big women can do big things.
if I would leave her motherless, and leave my husband a single parent. I was taking this trip to support children across the globe. But I also needed to be around to support my own child. I couldn’t do that if I was dead: from the mountain or from obesity. I want to return to her. I need to return to her. Maybe I shouldn’t go? I think of anything as an opportunity for weight loss. But, like most pound-shredding endeavors I’ve tried in my life—Weight Watchers, delivered meals, protein
the last time. I promise,” I said. Blood filled my face as I blushed. I stood my ground in the hotel lobby, to have control and not succumb to the embarrassment and fear from the last climb—and the pants. Because of my unusual size, people tend to remember me. I’m a weird thing to run into, especially on Kilimanjaro. I wanted to be anonymous without any pressure to be anything but a hiker. I wanted to blend into my surroundings, but from my experience, that isn’t the way things happen when
shift. When I saw her, I wanted to explain what had happened but it all came out as breathy sobs. “I tried,” sob, “and then,” breath, “I fell.” She took me home. I rested with an icepack on my lumpy head until I had to go back to school the next day. From then on, I was someone who didn’t quite fit in. And it only got worse. Three years later, I crawled like a Marine from in front of the couch, where I had been watching MTV lying on my belly on the floor. The front door creaked open and
with a stalled engine as she tried to get going, to regain her momentum. I looked up toward the peak and shouted back to Stacey, “I see where we’re going and it’s a beautiful thing . . . it may not be pretty yet, but it will be beautiful when we get there.” However far I walked, however much I tried to think of other things, the humiliation of last night was there, and it was raw. I was overcompensating by being perky, a cheerleader, even if I would have never made it on a team, let alone be on
over to the breakfast table to find them all slumped over steaming bowls of gruel and fruit. If there was ever a time for a pep talk, this was it. I sat down for a moment, but then sprang off my bucket, which returned to its proper form, and stood at the head of the table as if I were making a toast at some formal dinner party. “Imagine, less than twenty-four hours from now, we’ll all be on top of the mountain. It will be hard, but it’s just a day,” I said. “It’s such a gorgeous day. We’ve had