Is Ted King The Next Big American Cyclist?
Lake Neusiedl, a 20-mile-long shallow lake that straddles the Austro-Hungarian border, is a 45-minute drive southeast on the A4 highway from Vienna. It’s a popular summer destination for avid sailors and windsurfers; in fact, the breeze is so plentiful—and steady—that an Austrian energy company has installed vast rows of large, three-bladed white windmills near the vineyards and sunflower fields by the lake’s shores.
Today, the resort town of Podersdorf is hosting the seventh stage of the Tour of Austria, a 16-mile time trial that will pit the riders against the clock. It’s the shortest course of the entire race by far: over the six previous stages, the riders have averaged 108 miles and around four hours in the saddle each day.
Near the start line, King steps out of the team camper, clad in his white-and-black skintight Cervélo spandex. He looks like he’d be at home in a Woody Jackson ’70 painting. But though his jersey is fresh, he’s not. It’s been raining throughout the race, and on two separate stages, he’s crashed off the bike.
“One more day,” he says.
Though a short ride and postcard scenery await, they offer little respite for King and his teammates. To get through the day, the cyclists rely on a mantra they’ve carefully cultivated from day one of the Tour: ride, rest, and eat. Aside from keeping an appropriate pace on the bike, eating right—and enough—is the most important thing a rider can do during a race.
On an average day, each racer burns between 6,000 to 9,000 calories. After each ride, they quickly take in a protein or electrolyte drink, get back to the hotel, eat a small snack, and have a deep-tissue sports massage. Then it’s time for a recovery dinner, an hour or two of downtime, and, finally, sleep. The next day, the routine starts all over again.
It’s a grind and many cyclists become commensurately obsessive. Lance Armstrong famously used to weigh his food before each meal in order to ensure optimal body mass for speed and strength on the bike.
King has his own quirks—“Why stand when you can sit? Why sit when you can lie down?” he recites to me, rapid-fire, on more than one occasion, emphasizing the need to rest his body—but what’s helped him progress at the European level is that he’s been at once focused and relaxed the whole way.
“He is a nice and easy person; he is never complaining,” says Cervélo’s Alex Sans Vega, one of his sport directors, or team managers. “He’s always in a good mood.”
He’s also got a lot of humility, especially for a 26-year-old who’s getting paid to race bikes in Europe.
“A lot of guys want you to think that it’s some sort of superhero thing that they’re doing,” says Simms, “but Ted’s just, ‘I’m like you, but 20 percent faster.’ And my stories on the bike are the same, they just involve Lance Armstrong.”
