Climbing Past the Stereotype

I’ve spent most of my life built wrong for the outdoor catalogs. The size chart shows a 3XL, but they never actually made it. Too wide for “athletic fit,” too stubborn to stay home. At my heaviest, somewhere north of 350 lbs., I was still in the mountains, still in the rivers, still grinding through every Monkey 1000, still hauling gear and building fires at every Guild event. But try finding expedition pants over a size 38 waist. Good luck. You end up settling for whatever half-functional garbage you can dig up on Amazon, sweating under nylon cut for somebody half your size.

The outdoors has always been my place, even if the outdoor industry didn’t seem to agree. So when I stumbled onto a video of a heavy guy grinding up a mountain, laughing between gulps of air, I didn’t see an influencer. I saw another big man claiming the outdoors. The same stubbornness that drives a man to keep moving forward, no matter what the world says he can or can’t do.

That was Nelson Holland, better known online as “Fat, Black and Gettin’ It.”

He didn’t grow up with mountain passes and bison. He’s from Long Island, brick buildings, corner stores, the smell of bagels and bus exhaust. In 2014, a friend told him to check out Colorado. He stepped off a plane in Denver, looked west, and the Rockies hit him hard. He never left. In his own words, "Colorado wasn’t even supposed to be permanent, it just felt right”.

At first, hiking wasn’t the point. He just liked watching animals. During his FedEx lunch breaks, he’d drive to the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge. One day, he saw hulking shapes moving through the grass and figured they were cows. They were bison, and that lit the fuse.

He started walking more. Around lakes. Through hills. Then up them. Eventually, he hauled himself up Mount Spalding, 13,800 feet of thin air and burning lungs. No medals. No sponsors. Just him, alone in the thin air and cold wind, breathing his way to the summit. He posted a capture from that day on Instagram with a caption that read, “If you’ve never seen a fat black guy do this then hit that like and follow. Or you could hate, imma be out here either way!”

Now he’s got hundreds of thousands of followers. Many of his videos kick off with his signature line, “Stop scrolling, and let’s go check out some nature.” Then it’s wildflowers bending in the wind. Elk ghosting through the trees. The scrape of his boots over granite. Sometimes he’s laughing, gasping between sentences. Sometimes he’s just quiet, camera panning over a ridge like he’s letting you breathe it with him. Once, he puked mid-hike and still posted it. No pretending. Just truth.

That’s why people follow him. He doesn’t make it look easy. He makes it look possible.

Messages roll in: “You got me off the couch.” “I hiked today because of you.” On the trail, strangers stop to shake his hand. Once, a couple said, “We’re out here because of you.” He teared up.

He’s not out to be anyone’s hero. Still can’t believe people call him inspirational. But showing up matters. And because he shows up, others believe they can too.

The trail isn’t always friendly. He doesn’t always get the nods others do. I know what it’s like to be judged for my size, to get the stares, the quiet snickers, the not-so-subtle comments, but I’ve never had to carry the weight he does. I’ve never had a stranger roll down a window just to scream hate at me. That kind of load doesn’t get lighter with miles. In Oregon, a man leaned out of his truck and hurled the N-word at him. Welcome to town. Nelson went back to his hotel, slept it off, and the next morning he hiked anyway. No posturing. Just resolve.

Hiking didn’t just change his body. It rewired him. He’s lost weight, gained some back, pushed harder. The number doesn’t matter. He hikes to breathe deeper, to feel strong, to stay alive. Weight loss is a side effect, not a goal.

He talks openly about depression. About bundling up and walking into the woods at 30 below just to clear his head. Nature became his therapist. The mountains don’t interrogate. They just let you walk.

Now he leads hikes. Guides kids. Helps first-timers touch their own summits. A high schooler once told him, “If he can do it, I can do it.” That’s the whole point.

The trail doesn’t hand out passes based on politics, beliefs, or background. It only asks if you’re willing to take the next step.

Nelson shrugs at the word “influencer.” But whether he wants it or not, he’s proof the outdoors isn’t gated. It’s not reserved for lean white guys in matching shells. The trail doesn’t care about your skin, your size, or your bank account. And neither should we.

He’s not asking for praise. He’s just walking. Through discomfort. Through judgment. Through doubt. That’s strength worth respecting.

So yes, check out Fat, Black and Gettin’ It. Follow him at TikTok and Instagram. But don’t just watch. Let it push you. Lace up. Step outside. The woods don’t care what you look like.

And if you ever think you don’t belong out there, picture Nelson, big man smiling into the wind, still getting it. Proving the obvious truth that should never have needed proving.

The world is wide open. There’s room for all of us.  Now stop scrolling. Go find yours.