The personal fitness assessment.

I have fainted only once in my 26 years. I was on the job, interviewing a couple who owned an outfitter store in Winona, Minn.

I abruptly ended the interview and was on my way out of the store to cool off when my world went dark. I tumbled, taking down the store displays with me. Except for scraped hands and knees and bruised pride, I was OK. I drank some water, flattened my skirt, walked out of the store and returned to work for a day just like any other.

Today, I thought I might faint for the second time in my life. Boys and girls, this was not in my head.* I thought, one more lift or squat or push-up, and I might keel over. Right here. In this stretching room. How embarrassing. I would be that girl.

And I've run marathons. What kind of distance runner faints while lifting a 10-pound weight?

I was in the middle of my personal fitness assessment with a trainer, who I thought would weigh me and check my body fat, go over my goals, show me around the gym and send me on my merry way. But my appointment with the trainer turned out to be a real kick-in-the-ass workout. OK, so the trainer didn't literally kick me in the ass, but he was close. During a wall push-up, he pushed against my shoulders. And again during a squat.

In the stretching room -- thank God we didn't have to venture into Man's Land, as my cousin Abby calls it -- the trainer set up a circuit station with five and 10-pounds weights, a platform and a BOSU trainer (half ball). We moved from one exercise to another with little or no break. I squatted using multiple techniques. I did push-ups. Two kinds. I never do push-ups. I did crunches.

I sweat more than I've probably ever sweat running. The sweat glistened. It glistened! Even though I had told my trainer that I wanted to look more toned, I thought to myself while lifting that I looked pretty darn good, hot, maybe, in the only way a sweaty girl can look hot while exercising.

As much as I loved hearing, "Brady, that's perfect," or "Brady, push hard," or "Brady, just one more for good luck," I could only do so much. With each lift, I grew more tired and weaker. I left the stretching room to get water twice, and I had to take a few breaks, even though the trainer wanted me to keep my heart rate up and keep going. I didn't want to be a wimp. Really, I didn't. But I told him I felt faint and sick to my stomach. So in the middle of crunches, during a self-imposed pause, the trainer deemed our session over.

I lasted less than 20 minutes. I may be a runner, but I've never experienced true conditioning in my life.

My fitness assessment ended with a sales pitch, as I knew it would. My trainer, who was accompanied by the general training manager, because I was the trainer's first client (lucky me), recommended I sign up for a year's worth of training sessions, which cost $40 each, and participate in three sessions a week. That adds up to thousands of dollars a year.

I told them that I could not, in good conscience, sign up for training sessions since neither I nor my husband have jobs. Their faces fell. But I promised them I wouldn't close the door on training and would consider it when I'm employed. I meant it. As much as I wanted to throw up on my trainer today, I would love for him to kick my butt again.** But maybe only once a week. Because, who are we kidding, thousands of dollars a year spent on someone who watches me lift weights? I'm not a Real Housewife of Orange County. I'm a Real Housewife of a Kellogg student, and resources (err...income) are limited these days.

After leaving the gym, I treated myself to a latte and called it a day. Tomorrow I will run, but I will give my arms and abs and butt a rest.

*The sole female trainer, Sarah, at the gym followed me inside the women's locker room and asked me what I had eaten for breakfast. She was in the stretching room during part of my assessment. I knew I would run before meeting with the trainer, so I only ate a banana with a little peanut butter. My stomach can't handle much before short runs. And even before a marathon, I stick to one slice of toast with peanut butter and a banana. Sarah told me that I should eat something hearty like oatmeal before intense conditioning and that I could run afterward. That way, I would burn more calories and put more distance between a hearty breakfast and my run. She added that the newbie trainer should have asked me what I had eaten for breakfast and that you can't work through feeling faint. I am thankful for Sarah's advice. Until she approached me, I really thought I was being a wimp during the assessment, that I wasn't sick at all and that it was all in my head.

**My trainer said that if I see him at the gym and he looks bored that I can ask him to help me out with conditioning. I wanted to ask, "And how much does that cost?" Rather, I just smiled and left.