The Climb: The Autobiography
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The Climb by Chris Froome - the revealing, inspirational memoir from the British winner of the 2013 centenary Tour de France
The Climb tells the extraordinary story of Chris Froome's journey from a young boy in Kenya, riding through townships and past wild animals, and with few opportunities for an aspiring cyclist, to his unforgettable yellow jersey victory in this year's Tour.
A journey unlike any other in the history of cycling, Froome has crossed continents, overcome the death of his mother and conquered debilitating illness to follow his dreams and represent Team GB and Team Sky. He has experienced soaring triumphs, humbling defeats, a public rivalry with Bradley Wiggins and, most recently, the pressures of Lance Armstrong's legacy.
Extraordinary, revealing and life-affirming, The Climb is a story of determination, hardship and unimaginable success.
Chris Froome was born in Nairobi in 1985 to British parents. He was educated and raised in South Africa and now races for Team GB and Team Sky. In 2011 he finished second overall in the Vuelta a España. In 2012 he finished runner-up to Bradley Wiggins in the Tour de France and won the Bronze medal in the Time Trial at the Olympic Games. Froome amassed five stage-race victories in 2013, with triumphs at the Tour of Oman, Criterium International, Tour de Romandie and Criterium du Dauphine leading into a dominant win at the 100th Tour de France. He won the prestigious Velo d'Or award for best rider of 2013 and was shortlisted for the 2013 BBC Sports Personality of the Year Award.
the lads he wasn’t a bad guy. For him to do this now? As soon as I got into our room later that evening, I would say to Richie, ‘Fucking Greg, now I see why you guys didn’t think that much of him.’ Back in the race, there was the team plan for La Planche des Belles Filles. Then there was my plan, which took the team plan and added a little bit extra. The first part of the team plan was to make sure that Brad was well positioned when we hit the final climb. We did that. Then we controlled
body would be trying to bully him into submission. The plan had been to keep it smooth but fast through the initial few corners until we got out on to the big promenade, where it was open and wide. We would leave G on the back, and if he felt good enough to contribute at any point it would be a bonus. We settled: we each did a turn, filtered back, and then got in line just in front of G. Nico was on the radio calling the shots. ‘Okay, Kosta, you’re coming back now, you need to slip in behind G
few modest riders who entered and a few small hills. On day two we raced to Curepipe. Not an especially long day but the road rose maybe 2,000 feet towards the extinct volcano of Trou aux Cerfs. It was enough for me, and I broke away from the main pack on the climb. I won the stage. That small glory was the stuff of short paragraphs on back pages, a minor entry in the record books. It was no game-changer but it encouraged me to believe that I could get into the game. Whatever I was doing, it
animals concealed there, the different sounds and the many different trees. As soon as I had sunburn, for instance, she would cover me in aloe, from the thick fleshy leaves of the little plants which thrive in arid places with low rainfall. She would break the leaves off and run the edges over my skin. Another discovery she showed me was the toothbrush tree, which has all sorts of beneficial properties and which people used for centuries as a natural toothbrush. The elephant pepper, whose fruit
couldn’t afford to be the domestique who also complained constantly of not feeling too good. Or maybe I should have complained more – at least I might have discovered the cause more quickly. Before and after the Commonwealth Games in Delhi in October 2010 I found my way back to Africa. The season had fizzled out and I was drawn home. I spent a couple of weeks in South Africa before going to Delhi. Afterwards I made my way to Kenya to spend some time with Jeremy, who had relocated home and was