I’ve had back pain for the entirety of my adult life and most of my childhood. No one so far has been able to tell me what’s wrong with my back and I realized after chewing advil for a decade that it isn’t going to get better on its own. My strenuous summer job as a waitress beats down on it like a judge’s angry gavel; crouching to play with my dog or do household chores often sends it into spasms; sometimes I can’t even walk across campus to attend the class I’m paying thousands of dollars to attend. It isn’t fun.

At twenty years old and already withered down from a job I loathe and a back that often leaves me crippled with pain, I felt more geriatric than ever before. I realized that something had to change.

Let me start by saying I suck at sticking to New Year’s resolutions. I never taught myself how to longboard, I never lost twenty pounds, I never gave up shopping for a month on menial items. So when I started the summer, I began with a bucket list of goals: get a new tattoo, get a car, travel at least a little, etc. the list goes on and on. I’d hoped that I would be able to achieve a few, if not all of the goals I’d written down; that way I wouldn’t feel like too much of a failure if I missed a couple at the bottom rungs of the list. So I set a few goals for myself this summer that I’ve actually managed to achieve. However, I began and continued one that I did not expect to stick.

In an attempt to try to get in shape for the 489th time in my life, I realized that my bad back and cynical attitude would probably be improved by partaking in what the adults of the nation call “physical activity” or “exercise” for short. With my outdoor activities limited because of the Tatooine-like heat, I decided that an indoor activity would be best (huge shout-out to whoever invented air-conditioning).

Now, I’m not an unhealthy person. I’ve never done sports or stuck to a serious workout regimen, but I do hit up the gym every once in awhile and try to have a salad now and then. Sometimes my back stops me from going on the elliptical so I do some stretches, cry a little, and pop some more ibuprofen. I was told that a few activities could be great for my back, mainly running and yoga. I didn’t have a treadmill and there was no way I was going to run in ninety degree weather, so yoga it was.

Armed with five extra pounds of ice cream weight and an old yoga mat my sister barely used, I browsed the internet for yoga videos that a beginner could do with relative ease. I started by searching for routines that aided back pain. Twenty minutes of awkward stretches and an overly calm voice telling me to listen to my breath later, I was about ready to take a nap from the exertion. I felt silly. But mostly sleepy.

A couple of days doing this and it started to feel a little less silly. I got into different routines designed to work your core, to empower your legs, to boost your self-esteem; there are a million out there, man.

Eventually, I noticed that my back wasn’t giving me such a hard time. I felt like I was actually working toward bettering myself for once. I accidentally skipped a day when I woke up late, and you bet my back screamed at me when I went to work later that evening.

I just hate that I feel like a fraud. Yoga is a mind and body experience. My friend told me the first time she did yoga, she was so calm that it was akin to smoking some pot. She felt high, but off of life. I wish that I could have that experience.

So, I talked to my more spiritual friends about doing yoga. I told them I feel like I’m disgracing the practice because I’m focusing on my body, not my mind.

They said that though the practice has cultural roots, for better or worse, it’s become mainstream as a workout just as much as it is a culturing of the mind. With my friends’ approval, I felt less bad. It helped my back and got me moving. Even if I wasn’t having an epiphany each time I did it, the health benefits kept me going back. Maybe someday I’ll feel high from it, or at the very least, calmed.

Now that I’m back at college, it’s even harder to work into my daily routine. This is especially difficult as I acclimate to a new schedule and new responsibilities back on campus. I can feel my back aching as I lug my backpack around. Even going up a flight of stairs offers discomfort.

But you gotta keep doing it. As the monkey jogger in BoJack Horseman says, “It gets easier. Everyday, it gets a little easier.”

(You caught me, this whole article is actually about the trials and struggles of BoJack through convoluted metaphors).

But really. Stick to your goals because sometimes they actually work out (no pun intended). I’m happy that I’ve finally found a shred of relief from the never-ending bouts of pain and I fully intend on continuing the path that I’ve made for myself. And I’m happy that YouTube has tons of how-to videos and routines available. You bet I practically jumped for joy when the heels of my feet finally touched the floor while doing downward-facing dog.

Start simple. There are tons of how-to’s available from a variety of sources. There are apps and videos available if you want to do it by yourself. But one of the great things about yoga is that anyone can do it and people often do it together. College campuses have tons clubs and activities and I can almost guarantee your school has a yoga club. If the thought of working out with a bunch of other people seeing your sweaty butt turns you off to the idea, talking to friends will enable you to connect with someone that knows how to do yoga: either someone close to you or a friend of a friend. Who knows, an acquaintance may become one of your best friends in the process.

Get back on those New Year’s resolutions, those summer bucket lists, those semester promises. Make six-month-younger-you proud to say you stuck with it or accomplished something.

Good luck. And try yoga.

P.S the pun was very intended.