I trained at a luxury, application-only gym where memberships cost up to $300. Here's what it's like to work out at Ghost in New York City.

Even though I exercise almost daily, I'm also a deeply anxious person, and Ghost, a luxury gym in Brooklyn, New York, has a reputation that made me nervous about stepping foot inside.

It's one of several exclusive wellness spaces that's cropped up in recent years. Members are admitted based on an application, an internal review, and an in-person interview. Once accepted, memberships can cost up to $300 a month.

Founder and CEO Aqib Mamoon told Insider that while the space is particularly well suited for thought leaders, creatives, founders, and execs, Ghost accepts applicants across professions; You can think of it like the Raya — or Harvard — of gyms.

"I don't love the thought of people thinking that, 'Oh, we're looking for a certain type of cool person,' per se," Mamoon told Insider. "But certainly, we're looking for people that are kind and respectful and that are going to be treating this as if it was their own and interacting with their peers accordingly."

As a self-described cool person who is kind and respectful, I decided to try it out for myself.

Initially, I booked a yoga class through ClassPass. Then, on a suggestion from Mamoon, I returned for a one-on-one personal training session, which he said would give a more accurate depiction of Ghost's core services. Here's what it was like.

Walking into Ghost feels like walking into a nightclub. Except it's a gym, and it's filled with gorgeous, well-toned people who probably make more money than I do — so almost exactly like a nightclub, I guess.

Its black and gray interior makes the vibe dark, moody, and, dare I say, sexy. There's a lounge area at the forefront — a nod to the fact that Mamoon sees it more as a wellness space than a gym.

"I really view us more in the hospitality space in that certainly it's a place where people come to pursue wellness, but it's a little bit more than that," Mamoon said. "It also functions more akin to a social club or a private member's club."

Beyond the lounge, you'll find the trappings of a commercial gym: cardio equipment, weights, and a stretching area.

Ghost has a row of gender-neutral restrooms, and then there are the ritzy locker rooms, which challenged my public school education. Instead of "men's" and "women's," the locker-room signs read "XX" and "XY," which nearly sent me into a breakdown because I couldn't remember which symbols identified the chromosomes. (Biologically female is XX, for anyone as stumped as I was.)

To get things started, I kicked off my shoes and stepped onto a machine from Evolt Active, which analyzes your body composition and tells you things like your muscle mass and body fat percentage.

It can also tell you your biological age, a measurement that's meant to gauge how healthy your cells and organs are. The Evolt scan told me that my biological age is a year younger than my actual age (yes, that is a brag, and yes, I will be taking that to my grave).

After flexing my healthy cells and organs on everyone, it was off to a roughly hour-long training session with Mamoon.

Although I exercise frequently, I rarely have someone watching my every move and offering feedback, so the personal training session was an unfamiliar feeling.

After assessing how I do a few fundamental movements, like a squat and a deadlift, we began some mobility and strength training. Mamoon had me work through several exercises, like split squats, overhead carries, and a sled push.

I was sweating and out of breath through much of the workout, but Mamoon was kind and patient, and by the end, I felt less self-conscious than when we started. It also helped that the gym floor was relatively quiet.

Because Ghost currently caps at about 200 members, there's enough space to work out without clamoring over other guests for equipment — and that's part of the appeal.

"I think in having a membership cap, we've created the opposite environment, where you're not on edge about whether or not you're going to get your equipment," Mamoon said. "It's a space that you're comfortable in and that you can take your time."

I'd never even heard of compression boots before my time at Ghost. According to Forbes, the boots, which zipped up from my feet to my hips, are meant to increase circulation, aid lymphatic drainage, and decrease soreness.

I posted up on the couch in a pair of Normatec compression boots, which retailed nearly $800. Mamoon told me it'd feel like having a blood pressure cuff wrapped around my legs, which was spot on.

While I can't say how well they aided in my recovery, I can say that they felt great after the workout.

I'll be the first to admit that I was — and in some ways, still am — intimidated by the concept of Ghost.

At a time when many gyms are outspoken in their attempts to make wellness more accessible and less intimidating, Ghost, at face value, appears to do the opposite.

The high-profile clientele and private atmosphere had me dragging my feet on my way there, joking to my friends that I'd be kicked out for not being a model, CEO, or some model-CEO hybrid.

But as the staff welcomed me with kindness and patience, I began to understand the hype and how they've created a sense of community for wellness-seeking individuals. If I had the chance, I'm sure I'd return.

"It is a very private space, and I do think it can be a little intimidating for folks who haven't been inside and met individuals from the company," Mamoon said. "But I would like to think that folks who are clients of ours or members of ours don't feel that once they're here. If anything, the feedback we get is that they feel the opposite; they have a home away from home."