From Mario Kart rivalries to job interviews, efforts to be prepared have turned “lucky breaks” in my life into long-term confidence and career growth.
The first time I raced Mario Kart with my older cousins on the Nintendo DS, I got obliterated. Dead last. Every. Single. Time. They laughed, I sulked, and somewhere between Rainbow Road and Wario Stadium I realized two things: one, Mario Kart is pure chaos disguised as a children’s game, and two, I hated losing even more than I liked winning.
So I did what any slightly obsessive kid with too much free time would do. I practiced. A lot. Hours of figuring out every drift, shortcut, and item box until it became second nature. Weeks later, at the next family gathering, the rematch came. And the tables had turned: I didn’t just beat my cousins once, I won every single race. Ultimate victory.
The only problem? I wasn’t invited to play again. Apparently, nobody enjoys game night anymore when the little cousin suddenly decides to treat it like Formula 1 qualifying.
At the time, it was just a silly story about a video game. Looking back, it was my first real lesson in how preparation quietly stacks up until it looks like luck’s lesser-known sibling.
Growing Up Prepared
The instinct to fanatically prepare didn’t just come from playing video games. Turns out, at a young age I was already cultivating it at home without realizing it.
My mom used to be a primary school teacher, which basically meant our house doubled as an unofficial after-school program. At home we played math games without realizing it, read books that “magically” reappeared in class, and sometimes even helped prep her lessons. By the time I walked into an actual classroom, most of the material felt like a rerun.
I’m now extremely grateful for it, because the gift of that early prep was invisible but very powerful. In primary school, it gave me breathing room. I could focus my attention on having fun with my friends without falling behind. In high school, it helped me keep up even when things got tougher. I had already learned how to learn.
I also realize now, years later, that my parents have actually never taken an opinion on the precise grades I got at school. Whenever I came home with a good or a bad grade, they just asked one question: Did you give it your best shot? In other words: did you prepare in a way that increased your chance on a good outcome, whether you actually got it or not?
I guess that strong emphasis on effort over the actual results explains why I’ve never felt pressured at school, and as a result have always done quite well there. Was I the smartest student around? Absolutely not. But often I had a head start, and was otherwise encouraged to create one for myself. Preparation had quietly become my cheat code.
Student Life: Prepping My Way Into Leadership
Fast forward to university. When I ran for chair of my study association, I wasn’t the only one. Two others wanted the role as well, so we had to interview for it. My strategy? Prepare until I could do it half asleep.
I practiced my story endlessly, sometimes in my head, sometimes out loud (sorry to the anyone who had to listen). I asked friends to grill me with questions until my answers rolled out naturally, and had conversations with students who previously held the role. I probably went a little overboard, but when the day came, it worked. I got the position.
That playbook later carried over into job applications. I’d grab coffee with people who already had the role I was interested in, ask them about their paths, and walk into interviews with a perspective deeper than the job description. It made me stand out. And even when I didn’t get the role, which of course happened on multiple occasions, I always walked away with peace of mind because I knew I had done everything I could.
That’s maybe the underrated part of thorough preparation: it doesn’t guarantee you’ll win, but it takes away the nagging doubt afterwards. If it doesn’t work out, at least you know it wasn’t because you slacked. Probably another reason why my parents always emphasized effort over outcome when I was young.
Preparation Compounds (Just Like Money)
Preparation is a lot like saving, investing, and maybe even this blog in the future. Each small effort feels insignificant at first. But stack enough of them, and the effects start to show.
Because I’d prepared, I was calm in interviews. Because I was calm, I landed leadership roles. Because I’d done those, the step-ups in responsibility also meant step-ups in pay. That’s not linear, it’s compound growth in disguise.
These days, I earn well above the Dutch average at a relatively young age. That’s partly due to privilege, timing, and the support of others, but also because preparation nudged the odds in my favor at key moments. The biggest promotion I’ve ever received at work was because I received a lot of goodwill by successfully managing a crisis situation. I was very lucky that I had been in a comparable situation a few years before, and could bring some of those learnings into the new one.
Of course, prep isn’t glamorous. Most of it happens when no one’s watching. For me, that sometimes means spending Friday nights reading industry whitepapers or books from thought leaders instead of going out. (Yes, I’ve been that guy.) But every bit adds another coin to the jar.
And the payoff isn’t only financial. Preparation gets you something even more valuable: calm. It makes challenges feel manageable, opportunities less scary, and setbacks less permanent. That’s also why senior level jobs almost always require previous experience: it’s an assumption of preparation in disguise.
The Lesson
If money compounds when you save and invest, preparation compounds when you repeat small habits of learning, practicing, and showing up ready.
Mario Kart victories, over-prepared pitches, awkward first interviews, they all looked small on their own. But over time, they stacked. Each effort built into the next, until it wasn’t just a skill or a win. It became a way of moving through life.
The lesson here is simple: preparation tips the scales. Not always, not perfectly, but enough that “lucky breaks” might start feeling a little bit less like luck.
Final Thought
Looking back, almost every turning point in my life was shaped more or less by a combination of chance and being sufficiently prepared. It turned Rainbow Road from initial humiliation into victory. It opened doors in student life. It gave me confidence in job hunting. And yes, it shaped my career and my income.
Seneca was right: “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity”. But here’s the modern version: if you keep anticipating and preparing in line with your personal goals, opportunities stop feeling like accidents. They feel like the next lap in the race. And this time, you’re ready for the banana peel.
So tell me: What’s one time where preparation really paid off for you, in school, work, or anywhere else?
Many readers share these lessons in their own circles. If this story gave you something, feel free to pass it on!
