MOUNT TAMALPAIS – The choice comes slightly less than two miles in, a fork on the trail that tells you all you need to know about a feisty, century-old Bay Area phenomenon called the Dipsea Race.

A sign stuck in a dab of brush features arrows leading in two directions: "Suicide" in bright red; "Safer" in vivid green.

In a reversal of Robert Frost's proverbial line, it is the road most traveled that makes all the difference in this 7.4-mile, vertically challenging race from Mill Valley to Stinson Beach over Mount Tamalpais.

Few of the runners in this age-handicapped event – and the ages in Sunday's 99th running ranged from 6 to 83 – hesitate or deliberate. That is the Dipsea Way.

They take the plunge down the steep and dusty, rock-strewn and root-entwined path featuring a hairpin right turn near the bottom that sends some flying into the brush. There have been falls and sprains. There has been blood and cursing.

It's "Suicide," after all.

Then again, you could say that about many points in a course that includes such aptly named hills as "Cardiac," "Dynamite," "Insult" and, of course, the 671 quadriceps-straining steps to climb a quarter-mile soon after the start.

Downhill, arguably, is tougher, with harrowing descents such as "Suicide," "Steep Ravine" and "Hauke Hollow."

Suffering is part of the lore that permeates the Dipsea, the second-oldest sanctioned running race in the United States (behind the Boston Marathon) and the oldest trail run.

The way of the Dipsea

While certainly not the most grueling running event (check out any ultramarathon for that), the Dipsea has carved out a special place in running culture because of its unique local character – age handicaps, squirreled-away shortcuts on the route, a limited field that has entrants sprinting to post offices each spring, and a refreshing lack of a corporate influence that has put a monetary patina on other signature events such as the Bay to Breakers in San Francisco and Atlanta's Peachtree 10K.

No, the Dipsea seems quite content to stay local, keep control of its naming rights, refuse to give prize money that might draw the pros and continue to give runners young and old a chance to take home the Running Bear winner's trophy or the coveted black shirts that go to the top 35 finishers.

Sunday's race was won by Ross resident Brian Pilcher, a relative youngster at age 52, considering that runners ages 71 and 65 finished in the top 15. To win, Pilcher had to overtake 13-year-old Julia Maxwell – daughter of PowerBar founder Brian Maxwell – in the final two miles. Maxwell finished fourth.

The Sacramento area's top runner was 48-year-old Iain Mickle, whose 18th-place finish (53 minutes with handicap; 57:12 actual time) earned him a black shirt for the fifth straight year. In all, 24 Sacramento-area runners took part, either in the invitational (runners with previous experience who met a qualifying time from the previous year's race) or open segment (runners who qualify via mail and lottery, and start after all of the invitational competitors are off).

(Full disclosure: Yours truly ran in the open division and finished 36th – 1:31.34 with the handicap; 1:08.47 actual time. So, I was 36th among open runners, 648th counting runners in the other division.)

Strategy starts with entry

Mickle, a lawyer in Sacramento, grew up in Marin County and ran the Dipsea in the 1990s but didn't start placing high until the mid-2000s, when he started training harder and got a slight time break for being older.

"It's hard to get into this race, so that's why I keep running it every year – to keep getting invitations," Mickle says, joking. "This is a one-of-a-kind race. I figure to place in the top 35, I have to pass about 700 runners. And that's not easy.

"On the Dipsea, it's hard to run all out. You're either going up or going down. But I run it because of a wonderful sense of community. And the course is just incredibly beautiful."

Call The Bee's Sam McManis, (916) 321-1145. Read his postings on the "Sacramento Health & Fitness" blog at sacbee.com/blogs.