I have traveled around the world, represented my country and competed against some of the best athletes on the planet. Some people might be amazed by these feats; others see what I have accomplished as a testament to what I have had to overcome. Having been born without most of my arms and legs has definitely thrown me some obstacles in life, I won’t deny it. But, the key to my success is to push through “adversity” – if you want to call it that – and bring my best to everything that I do.

Since I can remember, I have always loved to compete. When I was young, my dad built me a "Playcentre" in the back yard, and I would constantly run up the stairs, across the bridge and down the slide as fast as I could. I would always say: "Time me Mom! time me!" and try and beat my previous record - over and over again. In school I have always taken pride in my work, and through the years have been at or near the top of the class because of it. I set my own standards, and I set them high.

No one knows why I was born the way I was. The experts don't know - it's just something that happens to some babies, albeit very rarely. Sometimes congenital amputation is caused by tight amniotic bands wrapping around a fetus' extremities, and the baby will be born missing a hand, or a few fingers. In my case, doctors don't know why I came out the way I did, it was a pure genetic fluke. To me, the cause has absolutely no bearing on the effect. I am the way I am, and I live my life to its absolute fullest. One thing is clear: the fact that I don't have arms and legs causes people to take notice of me - and that I will never waste.

When I was born, no one knew what I would be able to do. Would I have to be taken care of my whole life? Would I be able to do anything myself? Would I have any semblance of a normal existence? Those are daunting questions to ask, especially about a cute newborn baby. My parents were taken aback by the situation - I'm convinced, for about a day. They treated me like a normal son, and they challenged me to never settle for less than my best. I tried using prosthetic limbs when I was young, but soon it was clear that I could do much better without them. My childhood was the same as all my friends' and if it wasn't for my parents I wouldn't even be close to what I am today.

I have always been active, and soon took up organized sport. I took swimming lessons at the local Children's Treatment Centre, and my instructor suggested to my dad that I join the swim team. To this day my dad tells me that it took him three conversations with my instructor for her to convince him to let me compete. He thought 'no way am I going to let my son humiliate himself against other swimmers - what other outcome could there be than him being destroyed in a race?' And I have a feeling that this is the thought that goes through the minds of most parents of children with disabilities, and through the minds of most people with disabilities who are encouraged to take up a competitive sport. Paralympic sport classes athletes in categories with other athletes of a similar level of ability. As my parents and I soon found out, competitive sport can lead to great things.

Now if my dad was hesitant at first to allow me to compete, his reservations ended there. He has been the single greatest reason as to why I have gotten as far in sport as I have. Driving me to every competition I needed to go to, getting me to practice, and coaching me in my early training. Without that kind of amazing support, no athlete can hope to attain international status. The fact that he has recently become an international boccia referee now gives us even more reason to talk sport.

It's never easy to be a trailblazer. Looking back on my life I realize that I was most often the first person with a "disability" to do most of the things that I did. Whether it be going to the previously un-wheelchair accessible French Immersion High School I attended or competing in the Secondary School Track & Field throwing circuit from a wheelchair, I was the first. It may not be easy, but it is definitely worth it. If I can do the grunt work and deal with people's perceptions, and correct their misperceptions so that someone else can do what I have done more easily - then it is without a doubt worth every ounce of effort.

Although I have always been in love with sport, my body and lifestyle hasn't always reflected that. When I was 10 I broke one of my tiny ankle bones (I was born with small feet) and wasn't able to walk for about 6 weeks. My parents tell me that that was the start of my decline into chubbiness. Now I'm not into making excuses, and that injury wasn't the only factor that led to me becoming overweight but it is the reality of the start of the problem. In a society where video games and junk food prevail, it was the opportunity I needed to gain weight. Obesity is a huge problem for many, (no pun intended) and I am no exception. I fought my way back.

The two years after High School were my defining years. I had just started college, had just started traveling and competing in high calibre Boccia tournaments and decided to take a long and hard look at myself. When I went to the Paralympics in 2004, I saw that I was probably one of the most un-athletic athletes at the games. Boccia isn't the most physically demanding of sports, it involves strategy and composure as well as technique, however when I saw amazingly ripped athlete after athlete in the Paralympic Village, I realized that I needed to change.

After placing 11th in Athens, I hit the gym. Fueled by what I had seen and supported by my family and trainers, I began to lose weight. Over my two years at college, I lost over 50 pounds. I would wake up every morning and run 30-45 minutes on a treadmill going at 0.8 mph, supplemented with high intensity weight training once a week. I changed my diet. I cut back on fat, carbs and calories - not completely obviously, but enough to lose weight gradually and safely. I won't lie, those two years involved going to bed hungry, and waking up too sore to move. I don't like losing. Ever. Being fat would never help me win.

If someone without arms or legs can claw his way back and re-claim a healthy, athletic body - anyone can.

I don't see my life as a sob story. I don't see my life as a story of overcoming incredible obstacles or hardship. The fact is that my reality is the only reality I have ever known and will ever know. I don't consciously do the things I do in order to inspire people. However, if someone can look at my life and add or change something in theirs, then I suppose that is a legacy that I am proud of. The day that I set the bar too low, or make an excuse based on something that I can't control is the day that I have failed in life. Based on my current athletic and academic endeavours that day is a long way off.

I recently moved out, and am majoring in Political Science at the University of Western Ontario. I continue to train hard on and off the Boccia court, and my goal is to medal at the 2008 Paralympic Summer Games in Beijing. I am studying a subject I love and I get to travel around the World, playing a sport I love. I plan to attend Law School after getting my BA, and one day would love to enter politics.

When I was in downtown Athens, wearing my Canada gear, people on the street would come to me and ask me about my sport, congratulate me and treat me like a celebrity. It was an amazing experience that I won’t soon forget, but it’s not the reason why I play sports. I play for the thrill of constantly getting better, and testing myself against the best in the world. I try and bring this philosophy to my everyday life. I love what I do; given the chance, I would not change a thing.