The Climb: The Autobiography
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
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.
Paris–Nice I went for a training ride with Richie, and Bobby came along too on a scooter. We were on a climb when Richie pushed on a bit, and I struggled to stay with him. I was coughing every 10 seconds, as if my lungs were being squeezed, and I couldn’t stop. Bobby moved up alongside me and shook his head. ‘Listen, I’ve got to make a call here, there’s no chance of you riding Paris–Nice. You will only destroy yourself if you try.’ I couldn’t argue. That bug had been a bad one; the dominoes
for that oversight. It was a mistake. He was sincere but the point was made. There had been promises made and yet from the puncture to the special lightweight wheels and skewers, which Brad was using exclusively, all had been geared towards Brad. I had thought this was the team that didn’t do oversights. Dave said to me, ‘Brad wants to go home, he’s ready to pack his bags and leave the race altogether.’ I remember thinking, so it’s okay for him to leave and not give anybody else a hand? If he
Orange that night we forgot about being Team Sky for a while, and did something spontaneous. Dave ordered champagne and made a short speech; the mechanics Igor and Richard poured the bubbly. We had a couple of toasts and a bash at our low guttural victory chant before the food came. ‘OoooooOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!’ Everybody joined in. Michelle had made a massive milk tart, a South African pudding, for the team. Tomorrow was a rest day and we were relaxed, happy and loose. I was just putting a fork
Kenyan outfit in our country’s quarters. There were six of us: Kinjah and me, Michael Nziani Muthai of the desert, Davidson Kamau, his brother Peter Kamau and Simon Nganga. We were pleasantly surprised to be treated like the rest of the Kenyan team, on par with far more high-profile athletes. I enjoyed discovering who was who. We popped along to a couple of the track sessions. Watching Kenya, and being in the Kenyan stand when the team won a gold medal, was extremely special. There was an
year or two, and I wanted somewhere for her to settle down. It was one of the driving forces in the back of my mind, if ever I needed the motivation to push that much harder. I was determined to be successful enough to make this happen. She came back early from this latest tour to Iraq because she was feeling ill. She went into hospital in Nairobi for tests and the news was bad. Jeremy told me they were looking at doing a bone marrow transplant but in the interim she had developed quite a bad