Over the next few minutes, Kampmann listened as an incoming freshman named Rebecca Freebury introduced herself, rattled off her high school times and asked about upcoming tryouts in one breakneck burst. Even he couldn't catch up with her in conversation.
“Coach Kampmann said I was a whirlwind,” Freebury recalls. “I was like, ‘Hey coach, I ran cross country in high school. Here are my times. I would love to run with you, but I'm going to Europe for the summer, so I'll see you in August. Okay?’”
Freebury ran only one season of high school cross country, but that didn’t deter her from asking Kampmann if she could join the Pepperdine cross country team. Few things in life deterred her.
A standout sprinter at Peninsula High School in Rancho Palos Verdes, California, Freebury never ran track events longer than 400 meters during her first three years of high school. But every offseason, Freebury’s distance-running friends from the track team tried convincing her to try out for the cross country team. Each time, Freebury turned down their offers. She didn’t think she could run that far.
Finally, Freebury caved. Although a hip injury hampered her senior cross country season, she immediately fell in love with the sport. Once track season arrived in the spring, Freebury’s sprinting events lost their luster. She wanted to keep running cross country in college — all she needed was a chance.
“I tell my kids and my students all the time that you just never know how the choices you make impact the direction of your life,” Freebury said. “I'd only been a distance runner for a year, and I just showed up on day one of practice.”
Arriving at her first collegiate cross country practice, Freebury wasn’t the bubbly, energetic leader she was in high school. She was unnaturally quiet, shy and uncertain of herself. When some of her teammates called her Becky — one of her pet peeves — she was too afraid to correct them. For the first time in her athletic life, she wasn’t sure she belonged. The night before her first practice, Freebury agonized over choosing the right outfit to wear because she didn’t want to stand out. To her embarrassment, an older runner on the men’s team asked Becky if she got a new racing uniform before the rest of the team.
Eventually, Freebury came out of her shell thanks to Kelly Taylor, a senior who took the younger runners under her wing and encouraged them often in her warm, Carolina drawl. By the time her sophomore year rolled around, Freebury fell in love with the collegiate cross country experience.
It didn’t take long for Freebury to become Pepperdine’s leader. In the 1997 season-opener, she led the Waves in San Diego, kicking off a streak of 24 consecutive races as Pepperdine’s top finisher — an unprecedented feat. Two weeks later at a dual meet against LMU, Freebury won her first-ever collegiate cross country race, finishing nearly a minute ahead of her teammates in 19 minutes and 26 seconds.
Throughout her ascent, Freebury never questioned why Pepperdine cross country offered zero scholarships, didn’t have a women’s track team, or that she and her teammates had to buy running shoes with their own money every year. The opportunity to run was good enough.
“I was so thankful that I got to do this,” Freebury said. “I would stand on Pepperdine's track and look at the view and be like, ‘Man, I'm so lucky. I feel so, so blessed.’ It was an honor.”
Despite Freebury’s resurgence, the Waves struggled in 1997 and placed dead last at WCCs. Although Freebury improved significantly by placing 25th, the Waves faced the tall task of replacing four graduating seniors in 1998. Meanwhile, the rest of the conference was going through a youth movement: Seven of the top 10 runners at WCCs were underclassmen, and teams like Portland and San Diego looked poised to continue their reign atop the WCC.
In 1997, Freebury and the Waves started noticing differences between them and the rest of the WCC. For starters, teams that wore buns intimidated them. Unlike the Waves, who showed up to races in loose, free-flowing blue shorts and oversized singlets, women’s teams like Portland wore tight, spandex buns. All the fast teams wore buns.
A year later at the 1998 WCC Championships, Freebury took out the first mile with the buns. As the runners reached the bottom of Crystal Springs’ opening descent, Freebury knew she was running faster than usual, but she ignored early signs of fatigue and stuck with the Portland pack. When Freebury and the buns passed the 1-mile marker, a voice cut through the sound of her heavy breathing and steady, pounding footsteps.
“5:07! 5:08! 5:09!"
Freebury’s aggressive start did not pay off.
Thirteen minutes later, an exhausted Freebury crested the final hill and mustered every ounce of energy she could into the final 400 meters. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Saint Mary’s senior Molly Lawrence fly out of nowhere and surge ahead. Freebury had nothing left in the tank. The two runners finished one second apart.
The team struggled too. Despite favorable weather conditions on an unseasonably warm day, Pepperdine’s overall time was three minutes slower than the 1997 squad, and only two Waves runners placed in the top 35 to give the team a seventh-place finish. Portland won its fourth consecutive title with an astonishingly low team score of 20 points — a far cry from Pepperdine’s 180-point total. Ever the optimist, even Kampmann was uncharacteristically blunt in post-race notes.
“We can run better/faster than this,” He wrote in blocky print. “AND WE WILL.”
Later, Freebury and the Waves sulked around a table at the Crystal Springs Golf Course clubhouse for the award ceremony as they watched Lawrence and the rest of the top-10 finishers accept all-conference plaques. One by one, the buns joined her onstage. By the time LMU junior Malinalli Martinez — Freebury’s biggest rival — took the stage, the Waves couldn’t hide their disappointment.
Stewing in silence, Freebury replayed the final 400 meters over and over in her mind, trying to figure out what went wrong. Why did she let the buns trick her into starting so quickly? Would she have enough energy to outkick Lawrence if she had a more conservative start? Why did the competition seem so difficult even though she improved so much?
“‘Okay, that's it,’” Freebury remembers saying to herself. “‘A year from now, I'm not just going to get a plaque. I'm going to win the West Coast Conference Championships.’”