Several words spring to mind as Ahmed Kelly hauls himself out of the AIS training pool with his upper arms and walks on knees over to two prosthetic legs.
Amazement. With no feet and no hands, Kelly's life is a constant exercise in "thinking outside the box" and making full use of what he has available to him.
Independence. Kelly is fiercely devoted to living life his own way; he still feeds himself, drives a car and controls his smart phone.
Perspective. "A particular way of thinking about something, especially one that is influenced by your experiences," as one such definition of the word suggests. Having his legs amputated at just 11 years of age hasn't stopped Kelly from playing Australian rules football, and then pursuing a Paralympics dream.
Inspiration. From being abandoned at an Iraqi orphanage as a baby to representing Australia at two Paralympics, Kelly's story is possibly the most inspiring in all of Australian sport.
Childhood
It's late 1991 and Kelly is born in Baghdad, into a country oppressed under dictator Saddam Hussein and still rebuilding from the Gulf War.
Like so many babies born into a city which had been exposed to chemical warfare, Kelly suffered from deformed arms and legs.
Abandoned at an orphanage run by nuns, Kelly and his younger brother Emmanuel were rescued by Australian humanitarian Moira Kelly and moved to Australia.
Major amputation surgery left Kelly with no legs below the knees and no forearms, but it marked the final escape from his past.
"I had feet that were turned outwards and there were bones sticking out. It wasn't the greatest way of moving around but as kids you don't think twice about it, you basically go about your own business and don't really worry about anything," Kelly says.
"Mum and the doctors here thought it'd be best to remove the feet, remove that bone that was sticking out and form a nice stump shape so I could wear prosthetic legs.
"At the time all I ever wanted to do was be able to walk like everybody else and be able to walk without any pain. As a kid you couldn't walk more than 300 metres without having to sit down or take a bit of a break."
Even as an 11-year-old, Kelly's independence had already taken shape.
"I've heard many stories of people who don't have arms getting prosthetics that they don't really use," Kelly says.
"I do a lot of things without prosthetic arms and I feel like if I was going to get them, it was more about show and I've never been about show. It's about me doing what I can do and if people don't like the way I look, then tough gazungas.
"I'm not really worried too much about how I look, it's not really my fault the way I look but it is up to me with what I do with my disability and how I look."
Kelly, 29, has a custom-made cuff on his upper arm to which he can attach a fork for eating.
If he ever needs help to cut a steak, he asks someone for help.
He also uses the stump of his arm to navigate his smartphone.
"I've always been persistent ... patient. My mum always taught me to try and be as independent as possible, from brushing my teeth, to having a shower, to making my bed, to folding clothes, to eating," Kelly says.
"That's the thing in life, there are things that you're going to be able to do and there are things you can't do.
"There's always people out there to help you, it's just more annoying when they assume that you need help or assume they can do something for you. That's the part where I get a little bit annoyed."
Footy to the pool
Kelly is a mad Essendon supporter and fell in love with the Australian game soon after being fitted with prosthetic legs.
All of a sudden he could walk pain-free. Then he learned how to run and before long he was keeping up with his schoolmates.
He tried almost every sport before stumbling upon Aussie rules. He was instantly hooked.
"When I went to a game I was just inspired by the game and how skilful they were; the speed of the game, the dedication of all the players," Kelly recalls.
"My mum was inspired by Mother Teresa. I was inspired by some footy game.
"They got me to go out there, have fun and try the sport. I worked really, really hard to get an understanding of playing footy."
Kelly showed aptitude as a full-forward and was also regularly deployed as a loose man roving as he pleased across the ground.
He played for his school team and for his home town of Kilmore, earning the nickname 'Nails', but reached a level where he could progress no more.
That led him to attend a Paralympics Australia talent identification program.
"My nature was to try out all the different sports that were on offer and I did really well in athletics, swimming and cycling," Kelly says.
"I wasn't passionate about cycling. Athletics I was really good at because of the footy background but I just felt like I was going to be dwelling too much about footy and not being able to play, so I just needed something completely new and fresh.
"One of my friends was a swimmer and she was incredible, she was swimming for my local town as well. She motivated me to get to the pool and enhance that friendship but also enhance that swimming career."
A new passion was born and within the space of a few years he'd progressed from state championships, to nationals, to Australia's Paralympics team as a star breaststroker.
His nickname also evolved to "Liquid Nails".
Kelly finished fourth in the 50m breaststroke in the 2012 London Games, then seventh in Rio four years later.
It's a result that still burns.
Since then he's dreamed of standing on the podium in Tokyo.
And after that? A fourth Paralympics is on the cards, but Kelly has other goals to pursue, such as revisiting his birthplace.
"I haven't been back since coming to Australia but it's definitely in the plans to get over to Baghdad at some point," Kelly says.
"It's not something I want to rush. I'm so pressed with my training commitments - uni, family, things like that - so when I have a bit of time.
"You've got to make time, I guess, but at this stage with swimming and elite sport it's not quite forgiving with how much time off you get."