I Climbed Morocco’s Tallest Mountain During Equinox’s New Travel-Workout Experience

I consider myself active. I’m an avid runner; I do an HIIT class from time to time; I try to stretch every morning. But I’m not a hiker—the most I’ve probably ever hiked was up to an ex-boyfriend’s fifth-floor walk-up when his elevator broke. But now I’m on a plane ride home with my legs extended at a 180-degree angle to relieve them of excruciating yet satisfying pain. I signed up for the inaugural Equinox Explore trip in Morocco, for which the luxury fitness club Equinox took a group of people to hike Toubkal, the tallest mountain in North Africa (measured at 13,671 feet, a little less than half the size of Mount Everest).

The trip was part of Equinox’s new travel-meets-fitness arm, which will launch officially in September. Since the final excursion was not to be taken lightly, Equinox set me up with a membership and personal training leading up to it. To me, such high-grade sweat had previously been the stuff of legend, told to me by a handful of friends who had surpassed my salary and graduated from their sticky $10-a-month gym to the royal workout grounds of Equinox. (A monthly membership ranges from $185 to $260 a month.) “Shove a eucalyptus towel in your face,” one friend recommended, wisely. “And use the Kiehl’s products!”

While the pampering perks at Equinox were more than enough to lure me in, the precision-minded training gradually made me certain I could conquer the mountain at its end. My regime was curated by Matt Delaney, the national manager of innovation at Equinox, who paired each trip attendee with a top-tier trainer for at least a month and a half. (For these trips Equinox will recommend a participant train for three months minimum.) My trainer was Ian Engel, a sweet strongman with a lustrous bun who worked with me twice a week on strength, balancing, and kettlebell squats. Sometimes he would put me on the VersaClimber, a death machine that mimicked the action of hiking, which resulted in my legs moving like they were injected with IVs of jet fuel.

Trip prep wasn’t just about training either. The detail-oriented team sent multiple emails leading up to the trip, including a questionnaire that asked me about my daily habits, from drinking to diet. The packing list—which I did not pay attention to and should have—was no joke. I was to bring a headlamp (I initially thought this was for reading, but no—I soon learned we’d be hiking in the dark). There was altitude medication (CVS gave me my Retin-A prescription by accident). Sunblock (now very necessary for Retin-A coupled with Moroccan sun). Thankfully I didn't have to worry about hiking boots or jackets: Arcteryx supplied me with their latest wilderness-ready gear.

From afar, the trip concept sounds a bit insane—an idea that Equinox has leaned into before. (“Equinox made me do it,” reads one of their ad campaigns, overlaid on an image of a man easing into an ice bath, or a woman rowing a dinghy in a dress.) Equinox Explore is structured to attract a certain person with an intense, almost Patrick Bateman–esque drive. (The program will be open Equinox members and their challenge-seeking guests.) The program is the brainchild of its director, Leah Howe, who has a vast resume that includes working for both renowned travel companies and event production agencies, like Van Wyck. The idea for Equinox Explore started around 2015 but didn’t come into fruition until Equinox planned to launch its first hotel, which will open on July 15 at Hudson Yards. “It was a great complement,” says Howe, considering both the hotel and travel itineraries intend to fuse hardcore muscle use with the local culture of a destination. But unlike the average wellness getaway, there will be no serenity now (or at least, not as you know it). “Retreat is another word for ‘surrender,’” says Howe. “Equinox doesn’t retreat, Equinox powers forward.”

The fitness empire’s ride-or-die philosophy seeped into my mind even before I boarded the plane. (I called it “sucking down that #noxygen.”) Knowing I was going to climb a massive mountain lent me a new level of self-discipline. At nights, I’d pack my running backpack so I could wake up at 6:30 on the dot and start the 5.25 mile run to Equinox, whether or not I was meeting my trainer. When I was there, I’d stretch, steam, and then get ready for work. It was probably the best two months of my life. Knowing that I didn’t have to wake up to run three miles around my block only to return to my apartment for a shower with water pressure like a trickle of pee was a blessing. By the end of the two-month Equinox membership, my running endurance had noticeably improved, and, thanks to my trainer, my arms were jacked like Madonna during her yogi-Kabbalah phase. Plus, I was happier: Working out in the morning gave me a rush of endorphins that coffee could never do.

Jittery with anticipation and this newfound energy, I boarded the plane to Marrakech excited to finally take on the mountain that had motivated me during all these runs. We landed in Marrakech on a sunny May morning before driving to the picturesque Kasbah Bab Ourika, a hotel tucked in the Atlas Mountains. There, I met the smiling Charaf El Mansouri, a young U.S.-educated, Morocco native who had previously worked for Uber as an operations manager in London. He returned back to Morocco a year ago to start the personalized travel agency Sunny Side Up, which partnered with Equinox on this trip. His agency has a millennial-minded bent that includes yoga programs and the experiential parts of the trip, from food to exploration. He’s also the cool Morocco plug: He knows everyone and exactly how to get the job done. Equinox will plan to have someone like Mansouri in every destination they choose.

Part of the experience was about relaxation, and there was plenty of that before we set out. At Kasbah Bab Ourika, we enjoyed a laid-back day that included a hammam treatment and restorative yoga. The next day was when the real-deal activity started. I went on a warm-up hike, which lasted for three hours and six miles under the blazing sun. Our guides, from the Berber village Aroumd next to Toubkal, reminded me how much I still had to learn about endurance: They were observing Ramadan, meaning they couldn’t eat or drink from sunrise to sunset. But since most of them have been climbing since they were eight years old, they still lead tours up to three times a week during the fasting period.

The next day, our group began the ascent. We hiked five hours from the Berber village to the refuge Les Moulfons, located just down the mountain. Equinox, leaving no stone unturned, adorned the rustic cabins with their signature product, Kiehl’s. The next morning, we were awoken at 3:55 a.m. with mint tea and coffee, then we set out to ascend the actual mountain—the steep part!—in the dark. (This is where my forgotten headlamp became a necessity. Luckily, Equinox brought spares.) This wasn’t a leisurely European stroll, the type that I imagined sturdy Icelandic families doing, trotting through their lush forests. No, this was a full-blown expedition. I, ill-prepared, stuffed my Lululemon running backpack with mini bags of cookies and two-liter bottles of water. Everyone else looked like they were out of a shiny gear catalogue with their hulking Osprey backpacks and tentacled water bladders.

Along the way, the temperature varied from boiling hot to chilly. I experienced extreme bloating—a condition caused by acute mountain sickness—and at times, looked like I was on my second trimester. As for the scenery, I’m sure it was great! But 75% of the time I was looking at the ground, trying to mimic my guide’s fancy footwork. The lunges I’d done in training came in handy, as did my habit of running to work. Getting to the mountain summit from the refuge took a grand total of around five or six hours or, according to my iPhone, 36,116 steps—enough to run down the juice of a Stairmaster. Once we got to the top, or “summited,” we spent about 20 minutes taking very ’grammable photos and resting, then headed back down the mountain.

No one tells you that going down the mountain is more difficult than going up. The guides would scale the sides of the trail, almost happily skipping down. Our guide, Mohammed, who had taken his six-year-old to hike the mountain earlier this year, took pity on my nervous bird-like movements; he linked his arm with mine and we ran down parts of the mountain. This oddly took a lot of core strength: I’d run sideways to avoid face planting. It took a grand total of around three hours to get down the first part of the mountain. After a break at a refuge, we set off on the second portion, during which we would return to the Berber village. I asked the guides what they did to pass the time. “Think about not hiking, think about something positive, like your family.” I thought about perhaps burning my passport and marrying billionaire Richard Branson, who owns a massive house outside of Marrakech and who we later drove by while he was biking.

When our 11-hour expedition was over, the group was bussed to the famed hotel El Fenn, which is owned by Branson’s sister, Vanessa. The Post-Toubkal, our muscles were soothed with lush beds, restorative yoga, big sun hats, and wandering Marrakech’s medina. It was perfect.

The only improvement I could have made? Working on my squats, because damn, peeing on top of a mountain is a skill I never knew I needed.

Originally Appeared on Vogue