Die Treppen nach Himmel sind viele und schwierige.

My hiking partner took off for Budapest this morning, instead of going hiking with me, so I decided to finally test the strength of my ankle, and go for a run. My heartrate has been far too constant since coming to Austria. I set out for Mariatrost, a church not far from here, with about five miles of winding roads, and up many hills. I managed to run for about half the distance, I think, though after about a third of the way, I was alternating running and walking. At the end, though, I came to the church, set upon quite an impressive hill, with many, many, many stairs leading up to it- 228, to be exact. The architects must have wanted everyone to know just how much work it takes to get to heaven. When I got to the top, I quietly entered the church, as a service was taking place, and stood at the back for a while. It was all I could do to keep from sticking my head in the holy water, I was sweating so much. The church was a sight, though. Ornately painted ceilings, golden alters, and such. Not my favorite Graz church, so far, but still worth the run up the hill. Eventually, though, I had to sneak out the side door and go looking for a WC with a faucet to stick my head under. There are no water fountains here! As I came out, the service had ended, so I explored the church a little more thoroughly, and then came outside, where the priest was giving some sort of a blessing on everybody's journey home. Telling a parable about somebody meeting someone along the road, and Jesus saying, go with him, he will lead you right... and he did... I missed the beginning, and wasn't patient enough to stick around for the end. But it makes me so happy that I can understand things and basically get the gist of them. The view from the church grounds was lovely. I wanted to make it to a masterclass (which starts in abou 15 minutes), so I took the bus back, but I feel great for having gone on a run, and I'm happy to know that while *I* may not be in the best shape, my ankle seems to be able to handle it okay.

One other point of interest: inspired by Daddy's entry about Scottish mexican food, I went out and bought chips and "salsa-dip" at the BP last night. The chips were okay, though kind of flavoured. The "Salsa-dip" tasted like BBQ sauce.