Let me start at the end. I am trekking the last part of a six-hour ascent of Sandstone Peak, at 948 metres the highest summit in the Santa Monica Mountains. I am surrounded in every direction by spectacular views, including the Pacific Ocean, the Conejo Valley and four of the Channel Islands. However, I see none of this because all I can visualise is my journey to the top. My head is clear, my shoulders square and my jawline is set with sheer determination as my hiking boots dig into the soft rock with such purpose I almost fail to recognise myself. California is at its best at this very moment: its rocky peaks, grassy valleys and steep meandering trails make for perfect hiking territory. It is an exercise junkie\'s dream when the few of us that finally make it reach the summit on the final day. The winds are blowing and lactic acid is ripping through our limbs, but we barely notice as I get the feeling - although nobody says as much - it has been a while since any of us felt like such heroes. Two months ago to the day before this, I had volunteered to spend a week at The Ranch at Live Oak, a results-oriented health, fitness and wellness programme that includes 10 hours a day of exercise - including a 20km daily hike, core and ab classes, body toning and sculpting, circuits, weights, yoga sessions and a strictly vegetarian diet - set on a working ranch in Malibu, southern California. I\'d love to say I was seduced by the promise of invigoration or simply by the opportunity to reconnect with myself but that would only be bending the truth somewhat - I want killer abs and all-over muscle definition, and a skinnier bottom would also do. We had been well briefed by a weekly newsletter prior to our visit, advising and reminding us to wean off any dairy products, alcohol, sugar, artificial sweeteners, gluten and meat and to prepare for the exercise by doing daily hikes and yoga classes. Quite how I found myself taking part in a six-course steak dinner at LA\'s new hotspot STK the night before is another story - and one I would pay for dearly. We meet at the Fairmont in Santa Monica then head through the mountains toward the ranch. There is a bit of first-day-at-school sizing up of each other: we are smart enough to realise the dynamics of a group can make or break this kind of experience. We also make for a strange-looking bunch - a few miscellaneous finance types who aren\'t giving too much away, a well-known doctor from television, a few stay-at-home super mums, a famous musician from the 1990s and the granddaughter of one of the most famous retailers in American history. The only apparent thread linking everyone else seems to be money, and plenty of it. Each of us is led to our own suite, something I appreciate greatly over the course of the week. Although perhaps rather spartan compared to the normal five-star treatment, it is extremely comfortable and beautifully done. The bed is dressed with quality linen and plump pillows, while the news of a complimentary laundry service is gratefully received. By our bedside sits a leather-bound journal, entitled Ranch Values, that suggests removing \"can\'t\" and \"won\'t\" from our vocabulary, and to follow their unplugged-and-off-the-grid philosophy by remaining completely in the present. Phones, computers and watches are handed over, prompting a few of us to have minor tantrums. After unpacking we dress in our gym gear and gather at the Ranch House with programme director Marc Alabanza to discuss our goals for the week ahead followed, of course, by the dreaded weigh-in. As I step on the scale and watch the needle hemming and hawing, a few recent meals flash before my eyes. There was the succulent soft shell crab with lashings of garlic butter in San Francisco, an In-N-Out burger (or two) in New York, and the blackened cod dripping in a sickly sweet sauce a few nights ago in Hollywood. Needless to say, I don\'t look at the number on which the needle finally settles.