I have reluctantly re-laced my running shoes. My trainers. The old kicks.

I had sworn off jogging after training for a marathon straight through a winter in high altitude. I never ran the marathon, but I did get achy knees, sore hips and a low back that has never really been quite the same.

I've never been fast, gazelle-like or even a strong runner. I would describe the shuffle that I (for ease of communicating what I am doing with others) call jogging, as more of a plod along. A heavy footed, tromp that gets me from point A to point B, gets my heart rate up, a sweat to break through and the lovely side effect of a clear head.

But, I had vowed "no more!" I would be a walker, a yogi, a bodyweight trainer, a kick boxer, a rebounder, even a jumper, but not a runner. No - never again.

Until I got a case of the blah, blah blues.

I was bored.

I had no motivation.

I wasn't sweating – enough.

Even my vigorous yoga practice was no longer producing the endorphins that I didn't even know I craved.

So my go to health guru, Robert Fox of Shalem Healing suggested I refocus on cardio.

At the same time I started encountering all of these svelte, lean, energetic folks who, when I pried into their fitness habits all divulged the same thing: "I run about five miles a day."

Since when did FIVE miles become the magic number?

Geez, that sounded intimidating. And long. My joints ached just thinking about it.

Yet, something was sparked. The "running bug" fire was rekindled.

Crazily ... I had no clue where to begin. (Except, I kept hearing Bon Jovi's "Runaway" in my head ... )

Even THIS certified trainer needs some fitness direction sometimes, so I consulted one of the most knowledgeable fitness professionals I know and my childhood best friend, Nicole Jackson of Be In Balance Mobile Fitness Studio.

"Where do I start?" I plead as I spied the shoes in the corner, well worn from countless miles logged months before. The IPOD was charged, killer playlist in cue. …

I don't know jack about cars. Cars are purely functional modes of transportation for me.

I can identify certain makes and models by their easily brandable features, such as the space-age shape of a Prius or the shear voluptuousness of an Expedition. I admire a lovely feat of aerodynamics like anyone else; like the elegance of each and every Mercedes Benz. I recognize that I am drawn to crossover vehicles lately, especially the Infiniti FX35 in gunmetal silver.

But, I am beyond practical when it comes to automobiles. I drive an American made, 2001 compact SUV with two self-inflicted dents that I refuse to repair due to the fact that I am certain once I do, my car karma will reset, putting me at risk for more bumps, dents and scratches.

I admire fancier rides and understand the prestige attached to specific brands, but a truck that drives reliably in the snow and gets decent gas mileage is all I need.

Cars do have their way of making their impression on me, though. I remember when I met my man wayyyy back in the day and he rolled up in a '64 cream colored Cadillac Coupe de Ville. That ride whispered to my subconscious, "The guy that drives me is a class act." He was and he still is – that car was right.

The Caddy was in almost mint condition, but I fantasized about adding a leopard pinstripe along the sides and replacing the well-worn interior with leopard-trimmed crushed red velvet.

That never happened. But, it might have had I known Gino Lopez and his family back then, who own and operate Team Gileto, one of Milwaukee's only sources for quality performance parts, suspension parts and decals. Team Gileto also specializes in adjustable suspension, including coilovers, airrides and hydraulics.

In other words, it can pimp your ride.

Team Gileto's custom car work covers a range of tastes, needs and complexity.It  can actualize whatever vision you have for your ultimate, customized whip. From conservative car magnet advertising to flashy and fun vinyl …

Two worlds rarely co-exist so effortlessly as music and fashion. (Only peanut butter and jelly, glitter and drag queens, dogs and bones even come close.)

Summerfest introduced me to the latest manifestation of this killer combo in Milwaukee-bred band Dorydrive.

Hailing from Menomonee Falls and Door County, local rock fans may recognize members from their previous projects, Echovalve and Marashino.

Currently on tour opening for Hinder, Dorydrive is heading east to push its blend of active rock, pop, metal and country sonically across the country.

I dare you not to shake it to the rocktastic cover of Michael Jackson's "Dirty Diana" or not become a "DD" fan with the soaring "Never Easy."

I had the chance to interview singer Mathieu Nevitt regarding Dorydrive's onstage look and learn more about the band's Milwaukee roots in person, but a catchy cold kept me home sick, (the rock wife in me couldn't expose guys at the beginning of a tour to getting sick – I know all too well how tough life is on the road) so he graciously answered my questions via email.

Check it out and gain some insight into the cool duds rock bands get to "rock," and the gracious attitude of this band that I am highly advising you to get familiar with – if you want to be in the "know" before they surge into their impending hugeness. (Yes, I am totally predicting Dorydrive's super radio friendly sound is going to be Milwaukee's next big band to be proud of!)

OnMilwaukee.com: How did you all get together to form the band?

Mathieu Nevitt: The merger of two very prominent bands, Echovalve "Rockridge Warner Music" and Marashino, a powerful regional act hailing from Milwaukee (having toured with such acts as Crossfade and Shinedown.) Me and Zak first caught interest for Dorydrive while touring on the "Echos of Red Tour" featuring Echovalve and Joan Red. After the final date of the tour we kept in contact and decided to have a writing session with myself and the former members of Marashin…

Dear Stephanie,

You and I have been friends for long enough that I feel I have to be honest with you.

I can't stop thinking about your husband Michael's stick.

I know I'll only be able to get a taste during festival season by visiting him at The Original Angelo's near the Harley Davidson Stage at Summerfest. My craving is getting stronger with the eve of opening night upon us.

Only a mind as brilliant as Michael's could conceive an idea so luscious, so indulgent that it's all I can think about.

Thick, warm and filled with gooey goodness, begging to be dipped in Michael's special sauciness, my mouth is watering as I write this. The very idea of wrapping my lips around his delectable filling has me counting down the days to bursting through those festival gates, right to The Original Angelo's for some naughtiness.

I am at a point of no return.

I can hear the burst of the crispy outside give way to a slightly unctuous moistness and then feel the sting of the salty filling pierce my anxious tongue.

You know I am usually a disciplined woman. I carefully choose what enters my mouth. But, when your husband is involved, I am at his mercy.

It's like I can't stop. I won't share what he gives me. I have to workout harder because I can't refuse seconds, but I do it because I cannot get enough. I know the opportunity to taste his tangy explosion of Italian spice is fleeting and I won't be able to get any when summer ends.

I hope you'll forgive my obsession.

I know you'll enjoy his stick with me all 11 nights of Summerfest. We can sit together in the sweltering heat, dipping his crunchy, gooey deliciousness to our heart's desire. I especially love to enjoy his stick with you guys together as a couple.

I feel so much better getting this off my chest and onto the veritable table, so we can enjoy his sticks together.

Salivating,
Lindsay

Note to readers: Michael Albano is the proprietor of The Original Angelo's Pizza. His amazing food is available at his kiosk …