Derek Miles Article
Posted: Sun May 09, 2004 8:44 pm
http://www.mercurynews.com/mld/mercuryn ... 627787.htm
USD grad has eye on Olympics
MICK GARRY
Associated Press
SIOUX FALLS, S.D. - Derek Miles has given pole vaulting the gift of his passionate attention for more than 15 years now. Though this quirky event was sluggish in showing its gratitude, it finally did and when it did, it kept on giving.
Miles, a former University of South Dakota track athlete and assistant coach, will be making his second bid at becoming an Olympic pole vaulter later this summer.
Four years ago he was relatively new to elite competition, but introduced himself as a bona fide world-class competitor by tying for third at the 2000 Olympic Trials.
He lost a jump-off to Chad Harting that day for a spot on the team, but since then has won a U.S. national indoor title, been runner-up in the U.S. Outdoors and was the top U.S. finisher at the World Outdoors.
At the end of the 2003 season he was the top-ranked vaulter in the U.S. with a top effort of 19 feet, 3/4 inches.
"People come up to me all the time and tell me Derek is going to win a gold medal," said his coach, former vaulting great Earl Bell. "And you don't tell them they're crazy."
He's a long way from a medal of any kind, Miles would be the first to tell you. But you look at how far the skinny kid with the good attitude has come since enrolling at USD in 1991, how he's delivered on the world stage several times over, and Bell's right, it doesn't sound so crazy.
"It's something you always hope for as a coach," said USD men's coach Dave Gottsleben. "We've had some great athletes come through here, but none of them have made it yet like Derek has. It makes you think that maybe you can go anywhere from USD, too."
Miles, who has an undergraduate degree in history and a masters in athletic administration from USD, is tall, broad-shouldered and square-jawed. His appearance softens considerably in conversation. A handshake is followed by a "How are you doing?" which is then followed by the look of one genuinely interested in your answer.
"He sincerely cares about other people," said USD women's track coach Lucky Huber, Miles' college vaulting coach and close friend who continues to advise him on his training. "We probably talk to each other about 10 times a week and it's not always about his vaulting. He always asks how he can help our vaulters now. Derek has always been a guy who makes time for people, whether it has something to do with track or school or whatever."
A hamstring problem this spring has maddeningly slowed his preparation for the Olympic trials, which begin on July 9 in Miles' hometown of Sacramento.
Even if healthy, he has to make a height that will put him among the top three in a competition that will include Nick Hysong, the 2000 gold medal winner, and Jeff Hartwig, who has the American record at 19 feet, 9 inches, as well as several other similarly decorated vaulters including Tye Harvey, Tyler Stevenson and Timothy Mack.
"You have to keep it in perspective," said Miles, who will be attempting to qualify for the team in his hometown of Sacramento. "All your marbles eventually do end up in one basket, but you have to go into the meet thinking 'These are the things I have to focus on. These are the things I'm capable of doing.'"
Miles is a native Californian but otherwise has wedged just about as much South Dakota into his life as he possibly can.
He is the only child of John and Vicki Miles, both South Dakota natives who moved west after college.
John, a retired college administrator who played football and wrestled at the South Dakota School of Mines until he left for the Navy, is a Watertown graduate.
Vicki, a retired high school director of counseling, grew up in Lennox and graduated from Washington High School. The couple met at a state band event. Vicki was a saxophonist and John played the baritone, although he can play just about anything these days, including the banjo and guitar.
In addition, later this month Miles is marrying Tori Devericks, the best hurdler in the history of West Central High School and a former All-American at USD.
"We're all South Dakota as far as how we try to treat people," John Miles said. "It's a little different around here. Californians aren't like that. I'd like to think that Derek echoes our upbringing. He's concerned, he's trustworthy - I'd guess you have to call him a real boy scout."
Since retiring the couple has been able to follow their son's career fairly closely.
"They're having a blast," Derek Miles said. "They can watch me compete now. They can do some sightseeing and hang out. For 10 years I didn't have a chance to see them very often. Now I think they really like being part of the atmosphere."
John Miles sees his son's commitment to his sport as something that has far-reaching effects on his personality.
"Everybody wants to cut track and field, cut art, cut music - that's a shame. They're great ways for kids to build confidence in themselves," John Miles said. "It's been really cool watching Derek with the pole vault. It helped turn him into who he is."
"And the trips to Brussels and Paris haven't been bad, either," Vicki added.
Miles' start in his craft was serendipitous to say the least. He went out for track at Buena Vista High School thinking he was going to be a high jumper, but at an early season practice a coach came over and told his group it was time to run sprints. That, or they could go learn the pole vault.
"I'd never seen the pole vault done before, I didn't know anything about it," Miles said. "But I did know that I didn't want to run sprints. That's how I got into it - I was trying to get out of running sprints. I've been obsessed with it ever since. I quit high jumping and started collecting videos of good vaulters."
Miles was more of a wannabe than a be for a long time. He never qualified for the state meet in California, never going higher than 14-6. While that's not a bad effort for a high school kid, it's a pedestrian height for someone with a national title in his future.
"I really enjoyed it," he said, "but I wasn't very good."
He drew little to no interest from colleges in California, but after a visit to USD - the couple wanted their son to see a campus "in the hinter lands" - he began getting regular phone calls from Gottsleben.
Derek had visited South Dakota during the summers, helping work some farm land the family still owns and rents out near Brookings so the prairie was not as foreign as it might have seemed to most California teenagers. In addition, the Coyotes needed vaulters at the time, although the program's expectations for the new recruit were not very high.
"Derek visited here at the end of summer of his junior year of high school," Gottsleben said. "I don't want to sound condescending, but he didn't look anything like somebody who was going to be a high school senior. He was about 5-10 and 120 pounds, like he was a junior high kid. When he went over to admissions they wondered what he was doing there."
He had to start looking like a college athlete before he started vaulting like one. That process demanded patience.
"I don't think he shaved until his third year of college," Huber said. "The problem was that he was really thin and slow. You could see he had a good frame and that once he filled out there would be some potential, but did I ever think he was capable of what he's done? There's no way I could say that."
The other traits that have pushed him along were there right away, however.
"The kid just loved track," Gottsleben said. "In a lot of ways he was like any other college freshman who is unsure about the who's, what's and where's of the rest of his life, but the great attitude he had right away."
Gottsleben's phone calls made a big impression. It was an extremely low-key recruiting war for a vaulter yet to clear 15 feet, but the USD coach kept up calling anyway.
""It seemed like he cared about me even though I knew I wasn't going to be a record-breaker," Miles said. "I decided I wanted to go to a place where the people wanted me to be there. That's the main reason I came out to South Dakota. They seemed like people who would care about whether I did well or not."
Miles, who also participated in the hurdles, the long jump and the decathlon for the Coyotes, qualified for the national NCAA Division II indoor meet - which was in the DakotaDome that year - as a sophomore.
He came much closer to ending his vaulting career that day than he did of making a height. On a descent from one of his misses, the end of the pole got caught in his gut, temporarily impaling him. Thus shish-kebobed, he flew over the pit onto some thinly layered mats.
"I was standing next to his dad at the time and he turned to me and said 'Do you think that just killed him?'" Gottsleben said. "Derek got up and dusted himself off and said 'Hopefully I'm going to learn from that.' That's how he's always dealt with adversity. It's not like he's recklessly fearless, but he's not afraid to fail."
Miles went on to be a four-time All-American who finished second at the Division II national meet as a senior. He redshirted one of his outdoor seasons so that he could come back for a fifth year. It was during that competitive hiatus he accompanied USD stars Steve Gordon and Lionel McPhaull to a summer meet in Indianapolis.
It was there that Bell, who was quickly developing a reputation for developing vaulters, first saw Miles jump.
"Just watching that young, long-legged gangly athlete, I thought that when that guy got older, he was going to be incredible," Bell said. "He's not gangly now."
Miles was clearing 16 feet at the time, which wouldn't draw attention at a national college meet on its own, but Bell saw something more.
"He was watching Derek pretty closely," Gottsleben said. "Then he came up to him and said 'Young man, you've really got some skills.' It's weird how a few words from a guy like Earl Bell can launch a career."
In 1997, Miles hit the 18-foot mark at the Drake Relays then finished seventh at the World University Games and 10th at the U.S. Outdoors the year after graduating.
"That's where it was like, 'Wow,' I just did 18 feet," Miles said. "That was where I became absolutely obsessed. That's when I thought I might be able to do this for a living."
It was another two years before he cleared 18 feet again.
"I started thinking about hanging it up and starting life," Miles said. "Then I went down to Earl Bell's and things changed after that."
Bell, one of America's top pole vaulters from the mid-1970s through the 1980s - and a bronze medalist in 1984 Olympics - rarely sees his name in print without the phrase "pole vaulting guru" alongside it. He coaches and promotes the sport from his home in Jonesboro, Ark., and his list of students includes several of the nation's top men's and women's vaulters over the last dozen years, including Hartwig, America's best-known vaulter.
At any given time there are 20 to 30 serious vaulters staying in Jonesboro. Most athletes train full-time, spending much of their time in a place they call "The Barn," a rustic workout facility resembling a machine shed.
Bell's father, William, an octogenarian who still clears nine feet in the vault, warms the place on winter mornings with a wood stove.
"When you think of a training facility, you think of lots of mirrors and perfect weights," Miles said. "This is a little different than that. It's a unique atmosphere but it's got everything you need to become a better pole vaulter."
Athletes file through the facility during the day with the occasional lighthearted feuding over the choice of music.
"It's important to some of the guys," Miles said. "When it's my turn, I usually go with country because that's what Earl likes. Anything that puts Earl in a better mood, I'll listen to."
Miles' late ascent as a vaulter is not the industry norm, but it fits in pretty well with the rest of the Bell athletes. Most who turn to Bell for help do it because things are not going well.
"Almost all the Bell athletes have one thing in common," Miles said. "None of us were any good when we came down here. Hartwig and Harting were 17-6 guys. The formula is different than is common among vaulters. We all went to Earl Bell because we wanted to get better. I think that's why we all get along. We remember what it was like to have to pay our way into meets when we were flat broke."
Bell's strength with Miles was in projecting what he was capable of as much as it was coaching him to greater heights.
"In Derek's case, he came to the table with a lot of physical potential," Bell said. "He's got the feel, touch and agility of a small guy, all in a gigantic body. He's got tremendous abilities that you don't see right away. Typically in the pole vault, like in other sports, the little guys learn fast and the big guys learn slow. But Derek learns like a small guy. If anything, he's a little too hardworking. I have to pull him back a little once in a while."
The world of pro track is still murky when it comes to finances. Miles gets money from Nike, as well as appearance fees, meet prize money and performance bonuses. While that cash definitely gives him a boost, he also holds a full-time job.
His day as the assistant director of advisement services at Arkansas State usually ends around 4, then the training begins. While others in his situation might see 40 hours a week as a needless interruption, he chooses to appreciate it's liberating features.
"Pole vaulting changes after you leave college, particularly when you begin to make some money at it," Miles said. "It changes your perspective and the changes are not all positive. Instead of going to a meet thinking only about jumping as high as you can, you're thinking about finishing in the top three so that you can pay your bills.
"Working is not only something I enjoy, it also affords me the luxury of being able to continue to see pole vaulting the way I've always seen it - just trying to jump as high as I can."
Miles is granted some latitude in coordinating his work schedule, although when he returns from a trip he pays a price.
"When he comes back we try to make him feel bad for a week or so," said Miles' boss, Jill Simon. "He was very up-front about his situation from the start, so we knew what we were getting into. In return, we require him to tell us stories when he gets back from his trips. We also expect gifts. Stuff from Nike usually works."
Miles worked as an academic adviser at USD prior to his move to Jonesboro. Professional pole vaulting and academic advising make for an odd combination of skills, just as the severe technical and athletic demands of the vault do, but Miles pulls it off.
"Derek brings a lot of compassion. He very much remembers what it was like to be a college student," Simon said. "He goes above and beyond to help students. Things like coming in on nights and Saturdays. At times we kind of forget who we're dealing with. He's extremely humble in that regard. But he's the only tall person in the office, he's the only man and he's the only world class athlete, so he sticks out a little. We treasure the diversity."
An ironic aspect of the Miles' persona is that while he generally refers to the pole vault as an obsession, he otherwise acts pretty normal. This does not necessarily follow tradition.
His pal Hartwig has dozens and dozens of snakes and other reptiles at his home. Harvey is an accomplished paraglider who has since introduced the hobby to Miles. German standout Tim Lobinger recently celebrated a meet title by running around with his bum exposed in front of a crowd that included Monaco's Prince Albert.
"I guess it's like anything else, you have a lot of different personalities," Miles said. "Before a meet in Brazil, Hartwig spent a day rummaging around in the Amazon looking for snakes. Nick Hysong always has a computer with him - he's building his own video game. Harvey spent the day before one meet flying up and down a hill in his paraglider. When you start talking about the vaulters in Europe, it gets even more interesting."
Miles can't remember a time when he wasn't thinking about the pole vault "at least once every five minutes or so." This being an Olympic year and his hamstring being sore and all, it's probably down to three minutes.
The timing of Miles' feud with his hamstring could be better. Obviously it's an Olympic year, but beyond that, it came at a time when lightning was beginning to strike.
During a session with Bell following an eighth-place finish at the USA Indoors, a tweak in technique led to a breakthrough. From a 10-step run, Miles' best was 18 feet prior to that day. With an adjustment, he went 18-8. He backed up to 12 steps and went 18-9, then nearly cleared 19 feet.
"Something clicked," Miles said. "It really blew me away. I started thinking that this season was going to be a real good situation for me. Then the same workout, my hamstring grabbed me. I haven't been able to do any real serious training since then. It's like you get this present that you want to open and instead you have to put it on the counter and just look at it and think about it."
Miles is confident he'll be ready on July 9 when the trials begin. His hamstring troubles are at the forefront now, but soon enough if everything goes according to plan he'll be heading down the runway in Sacramento with the opportunity to fulfill a dream he wouldn't have dreamed of 15 years ago.
"If I'm healthy and I continue to do the stuff I've done technically over the last month and a half, I'll be confident," Miles said. "Not so much in making the team but in my ability to jump. If I can make 19-4 and I don't make the team, I'll be happy with that. That's as opposed to not jumping my best and then finding out that 19-4 would have put me on the team. That would be tough to take."
Bell counsels his vaulters by likening the crucial days to Christmas.
"The whole appeal is not the day so much as it is the preparation and anticipation," Bell said. "That's the real fun of it. You realize you can't control being great on one specific day but you can give yourself a chance. You do that by being sure you've done the preparation."
Miles has no desire to quit vaulting, regardless of whether he makes the trip to Athens. During the course of talking to him and talking to others about him, you realize the no-quit facet of his personality is the motor moving all the well-coordinated parts. He is very close to being the best in the world because he's not a quitter.
"Derek went out for football every year in high school," John Miles said. "I think he got to play once or twice. He was very skinny, probably the worst player on the team. But he hung in there. As parents, we found that to be fascinating."
The Miles parents attended a postseason banquet, during which the football coach got up and said something about every player on the team. When he got to Miles, he said "Derek didn't play much, but you can't run a program without guys like him."
"I thought that said it all, for all the people who hang in there," John Miles said. "That's what Derek did, he hung in there. That stuck with us. We were quite pleased and proud of that."
It's an odd sort of a deal to begin with when you think about it. Events like the standing high jump, the 56-pound weight throw and the two-handed javelin are all piled on track and field's scrap heap. Yet the event that asks a person to carry a pole down a runway, brace the end of that pole in a small box, then fling himself over a bar - well, somehow that discipline has survived the sport's historical editing.
With help from the spectacularly gifted, an oddball here and there, as well as the dedicated efforts of countless coaches, the event lives on as one of track and field's most compelling events.
"It's a little like NASCAR in a way," Miles said. "Part of the reason people go to a race is that they want to see some fender-benders. When you're trying to jump high, there's an element of danger and risk that people are drawn to. It's part of the sport. I'm going to keep pole vaulting until the sport gives up on me. I enjoy the training, I enjoy the excitement of big meets. As long as I continue to feel that way, I'm going to continue to vault."
USD grad has eye on Olympics
MICK GARRY
Associated Press
SIOUX FALLS, S.D. - Derek Miles has given pole vaulting the gift of his passionate attention for more than 15 years now. Though this quirky event was sluggish in showing its gratitude, it finally did and when it did, it kept on giving.
Miles, a former University of South Dakota track athlete and assistant coach, will be making his second bid at becoming an Olympic pole vaulter later this summer.
Four years ago he was relatively new to elite competition, but introduced himself as a bona fide world-class competitor by tying for third at the 2000 Olympic Trials.
He lost a jump-off to Chad Harting that day for a spot on the team, but since then has won a U.S. national indoor title, been runner-up in the U.S. Outdoors and was the top U.S. finisher at the World Outdoors.
At the end of the 2003 season he was the top-ranked vaulter in the U.S. with a top effort of 19 feet, 3/4 inches.
"People come up to me all the time and tell me Derek is going to win a gold medal," said his coach, former vaulting great Earl Bell. "And you don't tell them they're crazy."
He's a long way from a medal of any kind, Miles would be the first to tell you. But you look at how far the skinny kid with the good attitude has come since enrolling at USD in 1991, how he's delivered on the world stage several times over, and Bell's right, it doesn't sound so crazy.
"It's something you always hope for as a coach," said USD men's coach Dave Gottsleben. "We've had some great athletes come through here, but none of them have made it yet like Derek has. It makes you think that maybe you can go anywhere from USD, too."
Miles, who has an undergraduate degree in history and a masters in athletic administration from USD, is tall, broad-shouldered and square-jawed. His appearance softens considerably in conversation. A handshake is followed by a "How are you doing?" which is then followed by the look of one genuinely interested in your answer.
"He sincerely cares about other people," said USD women's track coach Lucky Huber, Miles' college vaulting coach and close friend who continues to advise him on his training. "We probably talk to each other about 10 times a week and it's not always about his vaulting. He always asks how he can help our vaulters now. Derek has always been a guy who makes time for people, whether it has something to do with track or school or whatever."
A hamstring problem this spring has maddeningly slowed his preparation for the Olympic trials, which begin on July 9 in Miles' hometown of Sacramento.
Even if healthy, he has to make a height that will put him among the top three in a competition that will include Nick Hysong, the 2000 gold medal winner, and Jeff Hartwig, who has the American record at 19 feet, 9 inches, as well as several other similarly decorated vaulters including Tye Harvey, Tyler Stevenson and Timothy Mack.
"You have to keep it in perspective," said Miles, who will be attempting to qualify for the team in his hometown of Sacramento. "All your marbles eventually do end up in one basket, but you have to go into the meet thinking 'These are the things I have to focus on. These are the things I'm capable of doing.'"
Miles is a native Californian but otherwise has wedged just about as much South Dakota into his life as he possibly can.
He is the only child of John and Vicki Miles, both South Dakota natives who moved west after college.
John, a retired college administrator who played football and wrestled at the South Dakota School of Mines until he left for the Navy, is a Watertown graduate.
Vicki, a retired high school director of counseling, grew up in Lennox and graduated from Washington High School. The couple met at a state band event. Vicki was a saxophonist and John played the baritone, although he can play just about anything these days, including the banjo and guitar.
In addition, later this month Miles is marrying Tori Devericks, the best hurdler in the history of West Central High School and a former All-American at USD.
"We're all South Dakota as far as how we try to treat people," John Miles said. "It's a little different around here. Californians aren't like that. I'd like to think that Derek echoes our upbringing. He's concerned, he's trustworthy - I'd guess you have to call him a real boy scout."
Since retiring the couple has been able to follow their son's career fairly closely.
"They're having a blast," Derek Miles said. "They can watch me compete now. They can do some sightseeing and hang out. For 10 years I didn't have a chance to see them very often. Now I think they really like being part of the atmosphere."
John Miles sees his son's commitment to his sport as something that has far-reaching effects on his personality.
"Everybody wants to cut track and field, cut art, cut music - that's a shame. They're great ways for kids to build confidence in themselves," John Miles said. "It's been really cool watching Derek with the pole vault. It helped turn him into who he is."
"And the trips to Brussels and Paris haven't been bad, either," Vicki added.
Miles' start in his craft was serendipitous to say the least. He went out for track at Buena Vista High School thinking he was going to be a high jumper, but at an early season practice a coach came over and told his group it was time to run sprints. That, or they could go learn the pole vault.
"I'd never seen the pole vault done before, I didn't know anything about it," Miles said. "But I did know that I didn't want to run sprints. That's how I got into it - I was trying to get out of running sprints. I've been obsessed with it ever since. I quit high jumping and started collecting videos of good vaulters."
Miles was more of a wannabe than a be for a long time. He never qualified for the state meet in California, never going higher than 14-6. While that's not a bad effort for a high school kid, it's a pedestrian height for someone with a national title in his future.
"I really enjoyed it," he said, "but I wasn't very good."
He drew little to no interest from colleges in California, but after a visit to USD - the couple wanted their son to see a campus "in the hinter lands" - he began getting regular phone calls from Gottsleben.
Derek had visited South Dakota during the summers, helping work some farm land the family still owns and rents out near Brookings so the prairie was not as foreign as it might have seemed to most California teenagers. In addition, the Coyotes needed vaulters at the time, although the program's expectations for the new recruit were not very high.
"Derek visited here at the end of summer of his junior year of high school," Gottsleben said. "I don't want to sound condescending, but he didn't look anything like somebody who was going to be a high school senior. He was about 5-10 and 120 pounds, like he was a junior high kid. When he went over to admissions they wondered what he was doing there."
He had to start looking like a college athlete before he started vaulting like one. That process demanded patience.
"I don't think he shaved until his third year of college," Huber said. "The problem was that he was really thin and slow. You could see he had a good frame and that once he filled out there would be some potential, but did I ever think he was capable of what he's done? There's no way I could say that."
The other traits that have pushed him along were there right away, however.
"The kid just loved track," Gottsleben said. "In a lot of ways he was like any other college freshman who is unsure about the who's, what's and where's of the rest of his life, but the great attitude he had right away."
Gottsleben's phone calls made a big impression. It was an extremely low-key recruiting war for a vaulter yet to clear 15 feet, but the USD coach kept up calling anyway.
""It seemed like he cared about me even though I knew I wasn't going to be a record-breaker," Miles said. "I decided I wanted to go to a place where the people wanted me to be there. That's the main reason I came out to South Dakota. They seemed like people who would care about whether I did well or not."
Miles, who also participated in the hurdles, the long jump and the decathlon for the Coyotes, qualified for the national NCAA Division II indoor meet - which was in the DakotaDome that year - as a sophomore.
He came much closer to ending his vaulting career that day than he did of making a height. On a descent from one of his misses, the end of the pole got caught in his gut, temporarily impaling him. Thus shish-kebobed, he flew over the pit onto some thinly layered mats.
"I was standing next to his dad at the time and he turned to me and said 'Do you think that just killed him?'" Gottsleben said. "Derek got up and dusted himself off and said 'Hopefully I'm going to learn from that.' That's how he's always dealt with adversity. It's not like he's recklessly fearless, but he's not afraid to fail."
Miles went on to be a four-time All-American who finished second at the Division II national meet as a senior. He redshirted one of his outdoor seasons so that he could come back for a fifth year. It was during that competitive hiatus he accompanied USD stars Steve Gordon and Lionel McPhaull to a summer meet in Indianapolis.
It was there that Bell, who was quickly developing a reputation for developing vaulters, first saw Miles jump.
"Just watching that young, long-legged gangly athlete, I thought that when that guy got older, he was going to be incredible," Bell said. "He's not gangly now."
Miles was clearing 16 feet at the time, which wouldn't draw attention at a national college meet on its own, but Bell saw something more.
"He was watching Derek pretty closely," Gottsleben said. "Then he came up to him and said 'Young man, you've really got some skills.' It's weird how a few words from a guy like Earl Bell can launch a career."
In 1997, Miles hit the 18-foot mark at the Drake Relays then finished seventh at the World University Games and 10th at the U.S. Outdoors the year after graduating.
"That's where it was like, 'Wow,' I just did 18 feet," Miles said. "That was where I became absolutely obsessed. That's when I thought I might be able to do this for a living."
It was another two years before he cleared 18 feet again.
"I started thinking about hanging it up and starting life," Miles said. "Then I went down to Earl Bell's and things changed after that."
Bell, one of America's top pole vaulters from the mid-1970s through the 1980s - and a bronze medalist in 1984 Olympics - rarely sees his name in print without the phrase "pole vaulting guru" alongside it. He coaches and promotes the sport from his home in Jonesboro, Ark., and his list of students includes several of the nation's top men's and women's vaulters over the last dozen years, including Hartwig, America's best-known vaulter.
At any given time there are 20 to 30 serious vaulters staying in Jonesboro. Most athletes train full-time, spending much of their time in a place they call "The Barn," a rustic workout facility resembling a machine shed.
Bell's father, William, an octogenarian who still clears nine feet in the vault, warms the place on winter mornings with a wood stove.
"When you think of a training facility, you think of lots of mirrors and perfect weights," Miles said. "This is a little different than that. It's a unique atmosphere but it's got everything you need to become a better pole vaulter."
Athletes file through the facility during the day with the occasional lighthearted feuding over the choice of music.
"It's important to some of the guys," Miles said. "When it's my turn, I usually go with country because that's what Earl likes. Anything that puts Earl in a better mood, I'll listen to."
Miles' late ascent as a vaulter is not the industry norm, but it fits in pretty well with the rest of the Bell athletes. Most who turn to Bell for help do it because things are not going well.
"Almost all the Bell athletes have one thing in common," Miles said. "None of us were any good when we came down here. Hartwig and Harting were 17-6 guys. The formula is different than is common among vaulters. We all went to Earl Bell because we wanted to get better. I think that's why we all get along. We remember what it was like to have to pay our way into meets when we were flat broke."
Bell's strength with Miles was in projecting what he was capable of as much as it was coaching him to greater heights.
"In Derek's case, he came to the table with a lot of physical potential," Bell said. "He's got the feel, touch and agility of a small guy, all in a gigantic body. He's got tremendous abilities that you don't see right away. Typically in the pole vault, like in other sports, the little guys learn fast and the big guys learn slow. But Derek learns like a small guy. If anything, he's a little too hardworking. I have to pull him back a little once in a while."
The world of pro track is still murky when it comes to finances. Miles gets money from Nike, as well as appearance fees, meet prize money and performance bonuses. While that cash definitely gives him a boost, he also holds a full-time job.
His day as the assistant director of advisement services at Arkansas State usually ends around 4, then the training begins. While others in his situation might see 40 hours a week as a needless interruption, he chooses to appreciate it's liberating features.
"Pole vaulting changes after you leave college, particularly when you begin to make some money at it," Miles said. "It changes your perspective and the changes are not all positive. Instead of going to a meet thinking only about jumping as high as you can, you're thinking about finishing in the top three so that you can pay your bills.
"Working is not only something I enjoy, it also affords me the luxury of being able to continue to see pole vaulting the way I've always seen it - just trying to jump as high as I can."
Miles is granted some latitude in coordinating his work schedule, although when he returns from a trip he pays a price.
"When he comes back we try to make him feel bad for a week or so," said Miles' boss, Jill Simon. "He was very up-front about his situation from the start, so we knew what we were getting into. In return, we require him to tell us stories when he gets back from his trips. We also expect gifts. Stuff from Nike usually works."
Miles worked as an academic adviser at USD prior to his move to Jonesboro. Professional pole vaulting and academic advising make for an odd combination of skills, just as the severe technical and athletic demands of the vault do, but Miles pulls it off.
"Derek brings a lot of compassion. He very much remembers what it was like to be a college student," Simon said. "He goes above and beyond to help students. Things like coming in on nights and Saturdays. At times we kind of forget who we're dealing with. He's extremely humble in that regard. But he's the only tall person in the office, he's the only man and he's the only world class athlete, so he sticks out a little. We treasure the diversity."
An ironic aspect of the Miles' persona is that while he generally refers to the pole vault as an obsession, he otherwise acts pretty normal. This does not necessarily follow tradition.
His pal Hartwig has dozens and dozens of snakes and other reptiles at his home. Harvey is an accomplished paraglider who has since introduced the hobby to Miles. German standout Tim Lobinger recently celebrated a meet title by running around with his bum exposed in front of a crowd that included Monaco's Prince Albert.
"I guess it's like anything else, you have a lot of different personalities," Miles said. "Before a meet in Brazil, Hartwig spent a day rummaging around in the Amazon looking for snakes. Nick Hysong always has a computer with him - he's building his own video game. Harvey spent the day before one meet flying up and down a hill in his paraglider. When you start talking about the vaulters in Europe, it gets even more interesting."
Miles can't remember a time when he wasn't thinking about the pole vault "at least once every five minutes or so." This being an Olympic year and his hamstring being sore and all, it's probably down to three minutes.
The timing of Miles' feud with his hamstring could be better. Obviously it's an Olympic year, but beyond that, it came at a time when lightning was beginning to strike.
During a session with Bell following an eighth-place finish at the USA Indoors, a tweak in technique led to a breakthrough. From a 10-step run, Miles' best was 18 feet prior to that day. With an adjustment, he went 18-8. He backed up to 12 steps and went 18-9, then nearly cleared 19 feet.
"Something clicked," Miles said. "It really blew me away. I started thinking that this season was going to be a real good situation for me. Then the same workout, my hamstring grabbed me. I haven't been able to do any real serious training since then. It's like you get this present that you want to open and instead you have to put it on the counter and just look at it and think about it."
Miles is confident he'll be ready on July 9 when the trials begin. His hamstring troubles are at the forefront now, but soon enough if everything goes according to plan he'll be heading down the runway in Sacramento with the opportunity to fulfill a dream he wouldn't have dreamed of 15 years ago.
"If I'm healthy and I continue to do the stuff I've done technically over the last month and a half, I'll be confident," Miles said. "Not so much in making the team but in my ability to jump. If I can make 19-4 and I don't make the team, I'll be happy with that. That's as opposed to not jumping my best and then finding out that 19-4 would have put me on the team. That would be tough to take."
Bell counsels his vaulters by likening the crucial days to Christmas.
"The whole appeal is not the day so much as it is the preparation and anticipation," Bell said. "That's the real fun of it. You realize you can't control being great on one specific day but you can give yourself a chance. You do that by being sure you've done the preparation."
Miles has no desire to quit vaulting, regardless of whether he makes the trip to Athens. During the course of talking to him and talking to others about him, you realize the no-quit facet of his personality is the motor moving all the well-coordinated parts. He is very close to being the best in the world because he's not a quitter.
"Derek went out for football every year in high school," John Miles said. "I think he got to play once or twice. He was very skinny, probably the worst player on the team. But he hung in there. As parents, we found that to be fascinating."
The Miles parents attended a postseason banquet, during which the football coach got up and said something about every player on the team. When he got to Miles, he said "Derek didn't play much, but you can't run a program without guys like him."
"I thought that said it all, for all the people who hang in there," John Miles said. "That's what Derek did, he hung in there. That stuck with us. We were quite pleased and proud of that."
It's an odd sort of a deal to begin with when you think about it. Events like the standing high jump, the 56-pound weight throw and the two-handed javelin are all piled on track and field's scrap heap. Yet the event that asks a person to carry a pole down a runway, brace the end of that pole in a small box, then fling himself over a bar - well, somehow that discipline has survived the sport's historical editing.
With help from the spectacularly gifted, an oddball here and there, as well as the dedicated efforts of countless coaches, the event lives on as one of track and field's most compelling events.
"It's a little like NASCAR in a way," Miles said. "Part of the reason people go to a race is that they want to see some fender-benders. When you're trying to jump high, there's an element of danger and risk that people are drawn to. It's part of the sport. I'm going to keep pole vaulting until the sport gives up on me. I enjoy the training, I enjoy the excitement of big meets. As long as I continue to feel that way, I'm going to continue to vault."