Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE Born Sick, Built Different BEFORE THE CHARGE up San Juan Hill. Before the White House. Before the mustache, the moose, the mountains— There was a boy. Wheezing. Weak. Curled in bed, gasping for breath in the dark. Theodore Roosevelt Jr. was born in 1858 into wealth, yes— But not into power. Not into strength. Not into certainty. His lungs failed him. His body was a traitor. He was sick so often and so violently that his parents feared he might not survive childhood. He could barely breathe—let alone run, or wrestle, or roar like the man he’d one day become. But here’s where it starts. The myth. The will. The decision. Because Teddy didn’t make peace with his weakness. He...