On the first day of Esperienza’s In the Steps of St. Francis springtime trek through Emilia Romagna, I began to question my training. My feet pounded. My breathing grew deeper. Then we stopped at an ancient monastery. As we admired its crumbling courtyard, the caretaker emerged from a low stone doorway bearing a tray of cookies and bottles of wine. I was revived.

*Hikers begin their journey, departing from Rimini through one of the Roman-era stone gateways.*

The 11-day journey across the Apennines is so rewarding in its physical challenges and cultural connections that my husband and I plan to take the trip again. Well-placed rest days, complete with tours of little-known towns and a pasta-making class, provided refreshing breaks.

And each day on the trail seemed to prepare me for the next, as my body adjusted to the rhythm of climbing up and down mountains. Still, the endeavor is demanding, with treks of 14 to16 miles and elevation gains ranging from 1,000 to 4,000 feet. The happiest hikers are those who arrive with trained muscles and the right gear.

So how did I prepare for this trip?

The training

My regimen included weekly Pilates, long walks, and two-hour tennis matches. A month before departure, I traded my hill-free city for Hawaii’s volcanic heights, clocking sweaty miles on long hikes. My husband runs 20 miles a week. We deemed ourselves ready—but we could have done more.

A fellow hikers swims daily and takes on European mountains yearly. Her husband logged daily training walks, including one 20-miler. Neither seemed to tire.

The lesson: Acknowledge that the trip—while filled with unforgettable experiences—is rigorous. Begin training months in advance, ideally with consistent hilly hikes or miles on the stair climber.

The gear

Our trip was slated for late March. By early January, we were at a local outfitter buying the hiking boots my husband needed. Importantly, this allow him time to break them in.

I shopped for trekking poles (my husband received a pair for Christmas). Though I had never used poles on my many hikes, I was glad to have them. I used mine often, especially on rocky terrain or steep descents. They spared my knees, stowed easily in my pack, and—thanks to rubber tips—didn’t click on paved stretches. I brought spare tips. Good thing: I lost one in a muddy patch on day three.

*Trekking poles, and layers for warmth when needed, are crucial for the well-prepared hiker.*

I also carried a wool cap and gloves with tacky grips (our hikes often began with temperatures in the 40s). A rain jacket and rain pants were tucked into the bottom of my pack. With sunny days, that’s where they stayed. I packed protein bars from home, which came in handy, as did a modest first-aid kit, stocked with Advil.

On the final day, during a short break, I faced the last steep peak and thought, ‘I’m not sure I can do this.’ My husband reminded me that I could. I reached for Advil to quell the pounding in my feet and carried on. I so glad I did.

That climb brought us to an alpine meadow with views of the Adriatic in the far distance and nearer hilltop villages where we had spent nights. That remarkable vista was more than a pretty view. It was tangible proof of all we had accomplished, and any ache faded away.