Oh, Right. That.

If a blogger starts training for a marathon and doesn’t tell the Internet, is it really even happening?

That’s more or less what I’ve been asking myself for the past couple of months. But considering I ran 18 miles on Sunday, I suppose it’s official enough: I’m planning to run the San Francisco Marathon in July.

This isn’t a sudden plan — far from it, actually. Back in November, I found out I’d been selected as a marathon ambassador for 2014, which meant I got a free entry to one of the events in exchange for writing a few posts for the official blog and generally exhorting people to sign up. (I did plenty of that in person and on social media, but uh, obviously not here — bad ambassador!) I’d been starting to get the itch to run another marathon anyway, and after running the first half in 2012 and the second half in 2013, running the marathon this year would gain me entry to the 52 Club. I do like swag, and while a sweatshirt isn’t enough to convince me to give up nights out and lazy weekend mornings in favor of hours of running, it at least helped to sweeten the deal. After confirming with the organizers that I could switch events if something came up, I registered for the full.

Then there was the matter of training. After making biking my focus over the winter, I planned to spend April remembering that running was a sport worth paying attention to and May starting to ramp up my long run distance. That more or less happened; I squeezed in a couple of 8-milers, a 10, and a 12 before Wildflower, but I had a hard time getting my overall weekly mileage where I wanted it. I hung out in the 15-20 miles per week range for a little too long, but I finally heaved myself over the 30-mile barrier last week.

So far, this could hardly be more different than my Berlin training. Then, I mapped out every run in detail; I stressed over every change of plans; I was terrified I’d end up not being able to start, or finish, the race because of injury or undertraining. This time, I cobbled together a Franken-plan (a little Hal Higdon Novice 2; a little Run Less, Run Faster; a few lessons learned from last time; a lot of adjustments and allowances for triathlon training through early June) and most weeks I look at it only to remember what I’m basically supposed to be running. Because the race is local — and, frankly, because I haven’t spent money — I feel very relaxed about it; I know that if training goes poorly or isn’t fun any more, I can drop to a half or just … not do it. I know that’s a luxury, and I’ll probably never have a situation like this again, so I’m really trying to appreciate it.

Since Wildflower, I’ve done long runs of 14, 16, and 18 miles. The 14 was solid, even including a fairly effortless trip up the Point Lobos hill. The 16, in Portland, was a slog, with walk breaks every two miles the only reason I got it done. The 18 was back to feeling smooth; there was something relaxing about knowing I was going to be running for three hours, and yes, I think that is probably pathological. (History shows that I had the same 16-awful/18-great situation last time. Weird.)

It hasn’t all been smooth. My shoe drama continues, and I haven’t loved the shoes I’m running in (Asics GT-2000); I got the worst sports bra chafing of my life on the Portland run (and that’s saying something), and it’s still healing a week later; and I’m not entirely sure what I was thinking when it seemed reasonable to run 18 miles this past weekend, race an Olympic-distance triathlon during my “cutback week” this coming weekend, then go right back into long runs of 18 and 20. Oh, and my training plan calls for my final long run of 20-22 miles to happen while I’m in Chicago for a friend’s wedding in July, and I’m a girl who was dripping with sweat after 18 miles in sub-60-degree weather. (Seeing the calendar shake out that way almost made me drop to the half right then and there.)

But hey: I’m eight weeks out, I’ve already run 18 miles, I feel mostly functional other than wanting to eat everything in the house (which is nothing, because I’ve already eaten it), and I’m way more caught up on podcasts than I’ve been in years.

I guess I’m running a marathon?