See, that's why we love this event.

The Dipsea is an age- and gender-handicapped race, which evens the playing field (although scratch runners, males 18-29, might say unfair advantage) and often delivers unexpected winners.

Sunday was no exception. Mill Valley fourth-grader Reilly Johnson (pictured) won the centennial race with a time of 47 minutes 30 seconds. That's eight seconds ahead of Melody Schultz, a 68-year-old from Ross. Both runners received the maximum 25-minute head start on the scratch runners. (The Dipsea whittles away the head start, by every two years, until the speedy 20-something men take off.)

Don't you just love that photo. Her winner's black shirt fits her like a dress.

Johnson not only won the race, but she was a veritable quote machine when speaking to the media afterward. (Believe me, if you've ever tried to interview a fourth-grader, it can be darn tough to get a complete sentence out of them.) Here's the Marin Independent Journal story on Reilly.

More than 20 local runners competed both in the invitational category (those who have raced previously and qualified to return) and those in the "runner" category (who got in by lottery and started after all the invitational runners.)

Once again, Sacramento's Iain Mickle, 49, earned a coveted black shirt for finishing in the top 35. Mickle, coming off an injury, finished 34th with an age-adjusted time of 53:37 (actual: 58:37). Rounding out the top 10 invitational runners:

• 113th John Howard Jr., 22, Sacramento: 58:35 (scratch runner)
• 134th Bruce LaBelle, 54, Davis: 59:37 (actual: 1:07:37)
• 169th Sam McManis, 50, Davis: 1:01:19 (actual: 1:07:19)
• 192nd  Matt Talbott, 32, Davis: 1:01:53 (actual: 1:02:53)
• 207th Jason Howard, 19, Sacramento: 1:02:25 (scratch runner)
• 241st James Flanigan, 60, Davis: 1:03:24 (actual: 1:15:24)
• 268th Krista Callinan, 29, Davis: 1:03:56 (actual: 1:11:56)
• 315th Brian Olson, 35, Elk Grove: 1:05:17 (actual: 1:06:17)

(Note: The dad of the two speedy Howard boys, John Howard, finished 359th at 1:06:13; actual time: 1:12:13. For compelte results, click here.)

In the runners division, which starts after all the invitational runners take off, the top three locals are all sure to have qualified for invitational status next year.

• Chris Korzer, 41, Rocklin: 1:23:04 (58:04 actual)
• Mark Helmus, 56, Davis: 1:30:06 (1:12:06 actual)
• Randy Anderson, 46, Folsom: 1:30:32 (1:07:32 actual)

You may have noticed Your Boasting Humble Blogger listed there among the locals. Yup, I survived another Dipsea. This year, strangely, the downhills seemed more precarious than usual and the uphills just as hard as last year. But the race is still like being on a self-propelled rollercoaster for an hour or so -- fun and terrifying in equal parts.

I achieved my three goals:

1. Make sure I run fast enough to qualify for next year's race.

2. Beat my time from last year (2009, I ran 1:08:47)

3. Don't get injured

So, I was feeling pretty good about myself until going over the race last night with my 13-year-old soccer-playing daughter. When she found out that I only beat an 8-year-old -- Johnson, the winner -- by 5 minutes 11 seconds in "actual time," she mocked me for the rest of the night.

Had she seen the talent and guts that this incredible 8-year-old possesses, she wouldn't have been laughing.      

I didn't hesitate to enter again. Running the Dipsea is like giving birth (or so I'm told). You tend to have selective amnesia afterward and forget the intense pain of the moment and want to do it again.

This is a Marin Independent Journal video from the 2008 race. It gives you just a little taste of the race, but hardly does justice to the beauty and treachery of the terrain.

The reason for the spike?

A black bear emerged on the trail about 20 yards ahead of him.

That freaked out Murray a tad. We presume the bear also was freaked out, since those Western States ultra-runners are well-known as hardcore badasses.

To explain: It was a weird day overall for Murray. He got a late start on his long run last Friday, then found two trail runners (friends Jenny Hitchings and John Blue) begging for a ride because Blue had left his keys in Hitchings' car. By the time he dropped them off, he still wanted to get in a solid seven-hour effort along the second half of the Western States course before the sun went down.

I reached Mark afterward for a full recap, so I guess you know now that he lived to tell the tale. But there were some dicey moments because (a) Mark was alone on the trail, and Sierra rangers don't recommend that; (b) he didn't make a lot of noise, as rangers also recommend; and (c) he didn't give the bear a 50-foot buffer, another recommendation. But let's cut the guy some slack. It was a freakin' bear!

(Click here for the "bear encounters" tips on sierrawild.com.)

Anyway, as we pick up the story, Mark is running up toward Michigan Bluff and remembered that he'd planned to meet his pacer, Ed Randolph at Foresthill to do a loop.

"I had my cell with me," Murray says. "As I'm running up Michigan Bluff, maybe a mile up from El Dorado Creek, I heard some cracking of branches. When I hear things like that, I always think mountain lion. I've never seen one running. I'm thinking, 'Geez, this would be bad. There's nobody on the trail.' But I'm rational enough to think it's not likely to happen.

"So I'm halfway up and I decide to check the cell phone while running to see if I have coverage. I put the phone back and notice I have only one of my hand grips. I'm halfway up Michigan Bluff. I thought, 'Oh (darn), I've got to run back down and try to find this grip.' I go down three minutes, find it and backtrack up.

"On the way back up, I ran into a beautiful snake with a red belly. I'm thinking, 'Wow, that's neat. A little wildlife. How nice to be out here and experience wildlife.' On a good day for me, it's a 45-minute climb from El Dorado Creek to the top. I'm waiting to see the manzanita. When you pull out of the oaks and get to the manzanita, then you know you only have a half-mile to go to the top. I'm staring up ahead, looking for it.

"Right at that moment, this bear comes from the trail's left side. He's going uphill, as well, from the ridge side. Or she. I think maybe it was a she. So the bear is looking up trail, not at me. I was smart enough to stop. I'm just staring at this thing, saying, 'Oh my God, what can I do?' I don't want it to notice me, so I don't want to make noise. I'm closer than I'd like to be, maybe 20 yards.

"I must have made a noise or it smelled me or something, but at that moment it really slowly turns around. I see its face, full-on. There's a scar, a line down the right side of the face. As soon as the bear registers that it's a person, it just bolts. But there was a split-second there when I was thinking, 'Gosh, I wonder what kind of encounter a bear like that must've had to get a scar like that.' Within that next split-second, this bear is off the trail and barreling (downhill) through the manzanita. All I'm hearing is just this crashing of branches. Then I realize, that's probably how it got the scar, jamming down that steep downhill.

"At that point, I decided I was going to go up (the trail). You know, bears definitely have a robust smell to them. When I got to that spot, you smell this funky, animally aroma. I was actually pretty happy that I was only a half mile from the top."

What was the bear doing out at 3:30 in the afternoon - not usually bear hours? 

"I don't know," Murray said. "It was clearly scared. Once you get to the top of Michigan Bluff, there are a bunch of houses there. Maybe (it was hungry)."

This wasn't Murray's first bear encounter. Last year, on an evening trail run in Soda Springs, Murray saw two cubs frolicking with a dead-tree stump. The problem was, Murray couldn't locate the mother right away. He gingerly took off.

So, for those keeping score at home, it's Mark 2, Bears 0.

This morning, I ran 10 miles, seven of which were at half-marathon pace, and I felt strong.

Big whoop, right? People do that -- and much more, much faster and more efficient -- all the time in training.

But, for me, it was a moderately big deal because I did it without my favorite middle- to long-distance crutch aid: carbohydrates. I had no carbs (no banana or toast) before leaving the house and no Cytomax or gels during the run. I drank six ounces of water, tops.  

There has been a lot of buzz among runners recently about carb depletion training. The thinking is that if you limit the carbs you ingest during a run it teaches your body to access the fat stores for energy, rather than just depending on the glucose your liver pumps out via carb ingestion.

Some dieticians and coaches posit that runners hit "The Wall" in marathons because they're not used to using fat as a fuel source. But by limiting carbs during training, they can access more muscle glycogen late in a race.

So, if I really wanted to awaken my sleeping fat stores, I probably should do my long runs (20 miles or so, sans gels) and see how it goes.

New York City Marathon champ Meb Keflezighi is a big proponent of the training method, as are many of the top competitiors entered in this month's Western States 100 Mile endurance run. Most runners don't do away with carbs altogether in training; they'll mix long runs with carbs with long runs without.

Here's a recent study on carb depletion, featuring cyclists (but it's the same principle).

The 34-mile race proved to be a tuneup for several Western States 100 Mile Endurance run participants. The top two finishers -- Alan Abbs (5:30:24) and Ray Sanchez (5:48:57) -- both are Western State runners. The top women's finisher, Lanie Callahan-Mattoon (6:20:35), also is running Western States on June 26.

In the 21-mile race, Granite Bay's Kirk Edgerton (3:23:30) got the win, 1 1/2 minutes ahead of Rocklin's Luke Garten. In the 25K, Citrus Height's Dan Napieraski (2:20:17) was the male winner, and Kelly Garman of Roseville (3:38:41) the women's champ. In the 8-mile run, Jonah Davison of El Dorado Hills was the runaway winner (48:40) while Casey McCowan of Morgantown, Ga., led the women (1:32:25).

I had the pleasure of spending a morning recently with Sal Vasquez, a 70-year-old Carmichael resident who is probably the most celebrated Masters runner who few people know -- at least in our area.

Sal has won the fabled Dipsea race seven times, but ankle surgery a year ago still has him sidelined. So he won't be competing in Sunday's 100th running.

Click here to read about Sal's incredible Dipsea reign.