Chapter 1: The Spark of Competition

During my sophomore year in high school, I found myself on the starting line of a mile race against a runner I'll refer to as John Smith. Smith was a standout athlete, boasting remarkable times of 4:20 in the mile and 9:20 in the two-mile—records I have yet to surpass even now. Standing beside him, I recognized my own limitations; he was undoubtedly superior, faster, and far more seasoned. I felt undeserving to even be mentioned in the same breath as him.

As the race unfolded, I surprisingly stayed close to John for much of the distance. He won, but it was by a slim margin. I realized that if I had regarded him as my equal rather than a superior, I might have pushed myself harder. Instead, I allowed his reputation to diminish my own confidence. Even a less-recognized sophomore could have had a chance against him that day.

After the race, I shared my thoughts with one of the team leaders. I admitted that I had mentally checked out during the competition, believing I was racing against John Smith rather than competing for my own best performance. He responded with a crucial lesson: "You can't think like that." I don't remember the exact words that followed, but the essence was clear. I must believe in my potential to compete with anyone and strive to surpass my own limits.

Fast forward more than 11 years, and I've come to appreciate the wisdom in his advice. I consider myself more of a realist than a dreamer. When faced with overwhelming tasks, I often recognize my limitations and seek a balanced path forward rather than an inflexible one. While I typically shy away from self-help rhetoric—seeing it as often impractical—I have recently discovered the motivation that comes from what I call my megalomanic delusions.

Chapter 2: The Power of Self-Talk

Within the confines of my mind, I often repeat phrases that fuel my drive and help me navigate the complexities of daily life as a husband, special education teacher, law student, runner, and writer:

"I'm the fucking man."

"I'm the best at this."

"I'm superior to everyone else here."

"I'm unstoppable, and no one can hinder my progress."

"I am the smartest person in this room."

"I put in twice the effort of anyone else here."

"Nothing can hold me back."

Admittedly, I feel a twinge of guilt when I entertain these thoughts. They seem impolite and perhaps even unhealthy. However, I manage to maintain an outward demeanor of kindness and humility, often going the extra mile to support those I care about. The reality is that these affirmations are rooted in a certain arrogance, even if I don't express them externally.

I label them as delusions for a reason. These thoughts serve as temporary boosts to propel me through challenges and start my day positively. Deep down, I don’t truly believe I’m the best; if I did, I wouldn’t need to remind myself constantly. My insecurity often drives these affirmations, especially when I feel uncertain. Interestingly, my capacity to navigate complexities is often seen as one of my greatest strengths in a world that doesn't always value such traits.

These megalomanic thoughts have transformed my outlook. Like anyone else, I sometimes dread mundane tasks such as washing dishes, cooking, or studying. Yet, by convincing myself that I excel at these activities, I find the motivation to tackle them. For instance, during a recent half marathon, I chanted affirmations to myself: "I'm the best runner here," "I’m in peak shape," and "I can remain calm and controlled." I ended up achieving a personal best and securing third place, even if I wasn't the outright winner.

While I may not be the best every day, I often perform better than I ever thought possible. This realization has been empowering. I am fully aware of my motivations, aiming to avoid internalizing these delusions to the point of becoming someone entirely different. So far, I remain authentic, utilizing these thoughts to motivate myself during periods of low energy.

Chapter 3: The Road Ahead

Reflecting on the past 11 years, I recognize a shift in my mindset. While I may not genuinely believe I'm the best, I have developed an internal belief that propels me forward. Although I may doubt myself before a test or a race, on the day itself, I find that conviction. This internal belief is becoming increasingly essential to my journey.

It's crucial to clarify that this mindset hasn’t led to arrogance. I still experience doubt and uncertainty, and I approach significant events with caution and preparation. Yet, I no longer shy away from asserting my place in the conversation, as I did in high school. Instead, I blend confidence with discernment to maximize my performance potential.

Ultimately, sometimes the key is to simply believe in myself. I used to dismiss the power of mindset, but now I recognize its importance—not as a definitive predictor of outcomes, but as a means of affirming my rightful place in the arena. I am committed to doing my utmost to succeed.