At a young age, I made a decision that most people never make—I chose to believe my life could be different. I was living in a trailer that cost $150 a month, but in my head, I wasn’t stuck there. I believed—fully—that with work, discipline, and time, I could build something real.

That belief wasn’t blind. It came with action. Early mornings. Long nights. Reps that no one saw. I knew I wasn’t going to be Mr. Olympia. I wasn’t built for that lane. But I was built to compete where consistency, work ethic, and belief mattered. As a 175–185 lb drug-free athlete, I still managed to land on 13 magazine covers. Not because I was the biggest—but because I refused to think small.

I believed I could help build a supplement company that mattered. One that actually helped athletes. I believed I could work with my idol. And I believed that if things fell apart—as they often do—I could rebuild. Every time.

People call that delusional optimism. I call it refusing to accept the default setting life hands you.

The difference between dreaming and delusion isn’t the dream—it’s whether you’re willing to move your feet every single day. Visualizing what’s possible for you isn’t crazy. Sitting still and hoping is.