I am at Welshpool Fencing Club for an insight into one of only four sports featured at every modern Olympics.

After hooking up at a fencing club many years ago, and later having crossed-swords on their wedding cake, Paul and Carol Harris now run the only fencing club in Powys; they quickly run me through the sport.

There are three types of weapon: the foil, which is light and designed for thrusting, its target confined to the torso; the sabre, which is similarly light but, unlike the foil, the side of the blade may also be used and the target is anywhere above the waist; and the epee, which is heavy – the target every part of the body.

I am eager to have a go at all three – especially the epee which has a groove on its blade designed to collect blood – and Paul is more than happy to oblige. "We'll have a duel at the end," he says, with an obvious passion for the sport. Carol seems slightly more cautious and keener to run me through it step by step. She probably has a point, fencing is an ancient martial art where often only one person was left standing.

Before lifting a weapon – by this point I feel like a 12-year-old itching to play out a scene from He Man or Thundercats – I had to get kitted up. As well as a jacket (which unfortunately also hooks around the leg and looks like a giant nappy from behind) I had a protective sleeve for my fencing arm, a glove and a mask that makes you look like a beekeeper. Nothing could stop me!

Well, actually it could, before being able to stab a sword into my instructor's chest I had to learn the art of moving my feet, and moving them quickly! Being right handed I placed my right foot forward and the other at right angles, then you have to bend your knees and sink low. Maintaining this position, you place your non-weapon hand above your head and extend the other. "Fencing is like a game of chess," says Carol, "you lure them into a move and then you strike."

Finally, although understandably in time, I was given a weapon. The Foil. As explained earlier the foil is the lightest of the three weapons. In fact the foil was never a dualing weapon, it is simply a practise tool for the epee. However, out of the three British fencers taking part in the Beijing Olympics two of them are competing in the foil: Richard Kruse in the Men's Foil and Martina Emanuel in the Women's Foil.

At first I just wanted to swipe. If I had an apple I would have tossed it in the air and attempted to slice it up into a dozen pieces. I was quickly shown this would lead to nothing other than having the point of my opponent's blade thrust into my torso. The art of defending involves nothing more than an eight-inch movement of the arm followed by a quick attack. "Defend, parry, repost," yelled Paul, "as soon as you block your opponent you must attack quickly."

Next up was the Sabre which, unlike the foil and the epee, you can strike people by using the side of the blade. "It's a flick of the wrist and not a slash," warned Carol. "Why?" I ask. "We don't want anyone to lose an arm," she replies with a smile on her face. I still don't know if she was winding me up or not, but I certainly listened, especially after she'd already told me about one fencer dying at an Olympic Games because the rubber end fell off his opponent's blade.

The foil was fun, but the sabre was fantastic. was now in charge of a cavalry weapon originally designed to chop the arm or head off another man. The phrase fighting to the death suddenly made a lot more sense! I also loved the look of the sabre, with its beautiful curved hand guard and its shiny steel blade I half expected Athos, Porthos, and Aramis to grab me by the collar and bellow "One for all, and all for one."

Finally it was the turn of the epee. I thought Carol was going to have a heart attack when Paul pulled these two weapons out. "Don't worry we will go softly," said Paul, with a twinkle in his eye. From the moment I walked through the doors I was looking forward to using the epee, but unlike the foil and the sabre I found it difficult to get to grips with. Granted I was now working at a stage far and above novice level, but it annoyed me, usually I can pick any thing up quickly but never become any better than average at it. This was different, I found it difficult to parry and repost without Paul's epee either jarring into my arm or crashing down onto my helmet.

Slowly I began to get the hang of it, but I was getting tired, not so much from the weight of the weapon but mentally, Carol's earlier comparison to chess started to become clear. In most sports you can have a break, rest your mind for a second – in fencing you simply get hit if you do!

When the hour-long session was over I was drained, my body was soaked with sweat, but at the same time my face was beaming with joy. I have never had an urge to try fencing out in the past, it is probably one of the few Olympic sports I wouldn't normally bother to watch. How things have changed. I am now glued to it and will cheer on our three British hopefuls all the way.

If you fancy trying your hand at fencing why not join Carol and Paul for coaching sessions on a Wednesday evening at Leighton Village Hall.
The classes starting on Wednesday, September 9, and will run from 6.30pm until 9.30pm.
Kit is supplied for beginners.