A sure way to up the health quotient of a getaway is to choose one of a growing number of destinations that focus on wellness. The ancient Greeks built temples to Asclepios­—like the one Sternberg found—far from their cities, where travelers engaged in spa-like purification rituals (including the licking of wounds by sacred dogs). "The Greeks didn't refer to their visits as vacations," Sternberg says, "but the temples were effectively a means of getting away and being in an atmosphere where they could immerse themselves in music, dreams, clean water, and exercise. And they had beautiful views overlooking the sea."

Today's temples of wellness don't all overlook the sea, but otherwise they are much the same. At places like Miami's Pritikin Longevity Center and the Miraval resort and spa in Tucson, Arizona, where Dr. Weil is the director of integrative health and healing, the idea that vacations can promote health has proven a successful business model: Despite the economic downturn—or perhaps because of it—Miraval is among a number of wellness-focused retreats reporting record bookings. "With this recession, people have more stress, so they're looking for things that are good for the body and the spirit," says Susie Ellis, co-founder of SpaFinder, Inc., whose website, spafinder.com, serves up information on 8,500 spas worldwide. "The mind-set is no longer about indulgence. People today want to know more about Ayurveda [the ancient Indian health science] and energy medicine like Reiki [a Japanese form of healing]. There's a desire to gain health, not just have a gold-dust facial."

The Pritikin Longevity Center was way ahead of its time. For almost 35 years, it has promoted exercise and a high-fiber, low-fat, low-sodium diet with an emphasis on fresh ingredients to combat obesity, diabetes, high cholesterol, and myriad other ailments. Doctors monitor guests' progress during their stay, but the medical aspects are tempered by the location and amenities. A stone's throw from the ocean, flanked by golf courses, and equipped with tennis courts, a pool, and a spa offering Moroccan mineral tanning treatments, the center turns the pursuit of health into a luxury vacation.

Rob Rago, a 48-year-old computer salesman from Hallandale Beach, Florida, who was tipping the scales at 270 pounds, signed up for a stay at the center in 2007. In one week of working out daily and eating right, he shed 7 pounds. More significant, Rago acquired the tools to lose more on his own. At one class, he learned how to grill fresh seafood and make other healthy meals. At another, he was taught how to decode food labels. "In the afternoon you have classes, and at night you have guest speakers," says Rago. "After the third day, I didn't miss one of them."

Six months after returning home, Rago was pleased to learn that his cholesterol had dropped from 264 to 179. "My doctor made me take the test twice," he says. "He couldn't believe it." By the following year, Rago had lost more than 80 pounds. The health benefits of a vacation are longer lasting—and in Rago's case, life-changing—when travelers adopt tools to keep stress or unhealthy behaviors at bay upon their return. "For any long-term effects on physical health," as researcher Gump puts it, "the vacation must extend beyond the vacation."

Despite a 20-year yoga practice and a conscientious diet, I was in need of the restorative properties of a health-focused getaway this spring, when I found myself laid off as a magazine editor and watching from the sidelines as my industry imploded. I decided on the six-day Perfect Health program offered by the Chopra Center, in Southern California (it costs between $2,675 and $3,575, depending on when you book). The center was founded by integrative health guru Deepak Chopra and his business partner David Simon, physicians who espouse the importance of meditation, diet, yoga, and positive intent. When these vital cylinders are firing in sync, they say, health, success, and agelessness result.

Count me in.