His upbringing may have reinforced this level-headed sense of normality. He was one of six kids growing up in Las Vegas, Nevada, in a household where his parents refused to let his condition set him apart from his siblings. “My parents just treated me like I was any other kid in the family,” he says. “If I asked for a drink of water they’d be like, ‘You can go get it yourself!’” He adds, adopting a cartoon voice of a stern father recognisable to children everywhere.

Did he get teased at school for being different? “At school I would get bullied, kids would mess with me. But as many kids that messed with me, I probably had twice as many that supported me.” I’m struck again by how familiar this sounds to most of our childhoods.

I wonder how somebody goes from being so normal, to suddenly being Superhuman. Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s wrong to consider Wheelz Superhuman. Is this search for something special, something unique a problem with my own perception?

“In school they always tried to put me in adaptive PE,” adds Wheelz, “which me and my family always fought. I always wanted to do regular PE, because that’s where all of my friends were. So, that’s why I like the skatepark, because it’s not like I was being treated differently.”

That and seeing older, and at the time no doubt cooler, kids skating and riding. He says, “Growing up, I had an older brother that loved extreme sports. He was a BMXer and a skater. I’d go to the skate park and just kind of hang out while he rode the park.”

I’m learning to let go of this idea of a Grand Vision held by Wheelz, to somehow show the world that his condition was an ability, not a disability. “But then, one day my brother was like, ‘It’d be really cool if you dropped in on your chair, do you want to try it?’” My dad was there and he gave me the thumbs up, so they helped me get my chair up a four-foot quarter pipe. Then I dropped in and just fell. Multiple times.” He adds, chuckling.

“Then, finally, I rode away from one of them and was hooked right then.” A broad smile appears across Wheelz’s face as he recalls that first time.

“I’d had this chair for nine months, and I’d totalled it.”

While Aaron’s dad clearly gave this new love of dropping in his seal of approval, I ask Wheelz what his mum made of it.

He says: “My parents were nervous, and didn’t want to see their kid get hurt, but they knew they had to let their son chase his dreams, and have fun, and just live. The only issue was when I destroyed my first wheelchair.” He looks bashful.

“I’d got this brand new wheelchair, and I started going to the skatepark. Now, you’re supposed to have a chair for four or five years before insurance will get you a new one and I had this one for nine months and I totalled it. It was done!”

“But my parents stood behind me, and people from church got me another chair. When I broke wheels, my parents would help me get another set. So my parents went out of their way to help me, and support me.”

With the passion for action sports well and truly lit, and the support and backing of those closest to him, Wheelz continued to push what he could do on his chair. At just 14 years old, he landed his first backflip on his chair.

“I went to Woodward and they have foam pits so you can try things out for the first time. I was pretty scared, but after a good couple of days of crashing I finally pulled the backflip off. And right there I was like: ‘Wow. Everything’s possible.’ That just sparked a whole bunch of progression [for me].”

Surely, even for a veteran like Wheelz, sitting at the top of the Gigant-a-ramp is pretty terrifying. “Fear’s a huge part of it. Every time I’m at the top of the Nitro ramp, my heart’s going crazy. But I’m pretty confident. I’ve had a good amount of concussions from doing the jumps and stuff but I’ve never broken a bone.” Wheelz pauses briefly to knock the wooden table between us. “As far as injuries go, I’m definitely pretty blessed. I mean, injuries are unfortunately part of it, but you just can’t let that stop you from progressing. It’s just like negative thinking: you don’t want to focus on the negative. You want to only focus on the direction you want to go.”

Pushing forwards, being creative, breaking new ground. It’s not so much a collection of Never Been Dones – although he has plenty, and is still after more (“One trick I really want to land is a double front flip. I’ve attempted it a couple of times, and hopefully I’ll be able to get that soon.”) – but more of a mission to prove simply that it can be done. I wonder if he sees himself as a role model. After all, it seems at odds against his humble, unassuming nature.

“Ah man, it’s definitely cool to have the opportunity to influence people and to pump them up. It is kind of weird though, because I’m just having fun. I’m just chasing my dreams, that childhood dream of being a pro athlete, and it’s cool that I’m able to have a positive impact along the way.”

It’s clear to me that, whether Wheelz recognises the part he’s played in it or not, he is a role model. The opinion of society is shifting when it comes to what people with disabilities can achieve. Wheelz himself stars in the Channel 4 advert for their upcoming Paralympic coverage from Rio later in the year. We are now encouraged to think of people with disabilities as being Superhuman, and yet, earlier it felt like an uncomfortable tag to apply to somebody that just wants to be normal.

But the truth is, Wheelz isn’t normal. But it’s got nothing to do with his chair. It’s got nothing to do with refusing to let Spina Bifida hold him back. Aaron ‘Wheelz’ Fotheringham should be thought of as unique for exactly the same reasons as his heroes, Tony Hawk and Travis Pastrana are. An elite band of humans who conquer fear, break new ground, and regularly do the impossible.

People who not only fly higher, go faster, and do more than those around them, who not only shape the future of the sports they’re in, but who also put in the sweat and the blood to make it all happen, week after week, day after day. This is why the man they call Wheelz is Superhuman.

To read the rest of the July Superhuman issue head here

You may also like:

“I Want To See Something That’s Never been Done” – The Travis Pastrana Interview

Best Skateparks in the UK | 10 Of The Best Places To BMX & Skateboard In The Country

Where Are All the Gay Athletes? Does Action Sports Have an Issue With Homophobia?