Own It! COMPETITION, MOMENTUM, AND THE TENSION IT CREATES

By nature, I am competitive. That reality has been both an advantage and a disadvantage

throughout my life. On the positive side, my competitiveness fuels determination, perseverance, and discipline. It pushes me to win, to push through obstacles, and to keep moving forward when others might slow down or stop. Competition has helped me grow, achieve, and lead.

On the other hand, as a recovering perfectionist, that same competitive drive can sometimes create distance between me and the people I love and care about. That distance is not intentional, but it is real. And if I am honest, it is rooted in something deeper than simply wanting to win.

Why do I do this?

Because I can be selfish. That may sound harsh, but it is true. I am selfish not only for myself, but for others as well. I want to win—and I want you to win too. I want progress. I want results. I want movement. I want momentum.

The challenge is that my level of competitiveness is not universally shared. While many people enjoy competition, most are not wired to pursue it with the same intensity. What feels like a healthy drive to me can feel like pressure or impatience to someone else. A few examples may help bring this to life:

I love pickleball

—possibly the most fun sport ever invented. A few years ago, I injured my right elbow. Instead of stopping (because stopping is not really my thing), I decided to keep playing left-handed. During that season, I met a new pickleball friend—let’s call her Jill. After playing together, she said, “If that’s how you play left-handed, I can’t wait to see you play right-handed.” She wasn’t the last to say it. A year later, my elbow flared up again, and before surgery to clean out a bone spur, calcium deposits, and re-anchor the tendon back to the elbow, I was back to playing left-handed—this time while helping beginners learn the game. And yes, I could still beat all of them left-handed. That’s competitiveness.

My driving is another example.

My wife believes I turn in front of oncoming traffic just a bit too closely. I politely—and confidently—disagree. Then there’s the curved on-ramp to the interstate. How fast can I take the curve and set my cruise control before I even merge? Just writing about it elevates my excitement and gives me chills of thrill! Competition is simply part of who I am.

Each year, inspired by John Maxwell’s practice of choosing a Word for the Year, I challenge myself to select a word—or a phrase—that focuses my attention and shapes my growth. I almost always choose action-oriented words, because verbs inspire movement.

My word for 2026 is “Own It!” 

Yes, it’s two words. Yes, it ends with an exclamation point. And yes, that matters. Before diving deeper into what that phrase means to me, let’s get a little nautical. Leadership Harbor exists because I love the nautical world. Sailing, in particular, brings me peace—the wind across my face, the water moving past the hull, the sense of direction and freedom. And yet, even while sailing peacefully, my competitive nature still shows up. When sailing alongside other boats heading in the same direction, I am racing them—even if they don’t know it. I am adjusting the sails, managing the rudder, and asking myself if I can inch ahead before we need to come about (that’s turn around in sailing language).

I like to make SHIP happen.

All of this points to one thing: I like to own it. Owning it means committing fully to the path. It means forward motion. It means momentum.

And that’s where frustration enters. Once I am on a path, I do not like to pause, slow down, or reconsider unless it becomes clear that the plan is not producing results. Stopping feels costly. Slowing feels dangerous.

The same is true when I am working with others. I don’t want you to hit the pause button either. Once momentum is established, it fuels motivation, reduces energy expenditure, and builds confidence. Like a locomotive, once we are rolling, stopping requires enormous effort—and restarting takes even more.

So when someone suggests pulling back or “just cruising,” it can frustrate me. To me, it signals doubt—doubt in the direction, the process, or the people involved.

We’ve got this.

Let’s keep going.

Let’s own it.

Brian