When Karen Voelz brought her son to Wisconsin Fencing Academy she was prepared to sit in the corner and catch up on a little work.

That was before she met Richard Struk, the academy’s owner and coach, and a force to be reckoned with. After Struk, a Polish native and Oconomowoc resident, countered every one of her arguments, Voelz found herself in borrowed equipment and clothes practicing alongside her son.

The following week she signed up for classes.

"It was such a great workout and I felt so good afterward," says Voelz, a town of Erin resident.

After more persuasion from Struk, Voelz started competing — a feat for someone diagnosed with fibromyalgia in 2005.

"My doctor had told me at the time, ‘You cannot give into this,’" she says. "And I didn’t want to be on pain pills. I had to keep moving and I found this helps me maintain and keeps my pain from spiking."

Coaches and fencers throughout the Milwaukee area tout the health benefits of the sport, from cardiovascular to increased flexibility, improved balance and strength.

But it’s what happens inside their heads, says Anthony Gillham, a Menomonee Falls resident and the state’s only master fencer, that makes fencing special.

Gillham, 72, was the fencing instructor and coach for the varsity program at UW-Madison for 18 years until 1990. The varsity program has since been dropped by the school. The London-born Gillham is now a coach at Caliburn Fencing Club in Milwaukee, which is owned by David Neevel.

"Confidence," Gillham says. "It’s one of the biggest developments that I see among students."

Gillham has dozens of anecdotes of how fencing has had a positive impact on former students and even his son, a three-time Big Ten champion and All-American fencer.

"I remember one student; at the end of the semester she said, ‘I learned more about myself in your class than I did in all of my business classes,’" Gillham says.

The trick, he says, is getting more people involved in the sport. "Nationally it has grown immensely in the past 10 to 15 years, but it still doesn’t attract a lot of people for recreation — it’s too difficult," he says. "Because of its complexity, people don’t stick with it."

Gillham, who also is vice president on the executive committee of the Academie d’Armes Internationale, the international federation of fencing academies, says there is room for a half dozen more clubs in Milwaukee.

"I hope to see it grow," he says. "The biggest problems are the lack of coaches and finding suitable and affordable practice space."

Gillham may soon get his wish. Former Caliburn fencer Joe Biebel is expected to open Milwaukee Sport Fencing Academy in March.

Milwaukee does have other fencing clubs, although some are more organized than others and one of the better known ones focuses on classical, not sport or modern fencing. The Classical Fencing Society Scuola di Arma’s Milwaukee branch is run by Alexis La Joie, who also coaches the Brookfield Academy fencing club.

CFS operates through Marquette University and also holds classes at Milwaukee Turners. While classical fencing uses some of the same weapons, it centers on the study of fencing as a martial art, not a sport, and aims to simulate actual combat.

"What’s kept me going the last five years is the depth I’ve found," says Charles Dobbs, 18, who is an instructor at CFS. "You can spend a lifetime studying it."