THE challenge was just too hard to resist. "How would you like to spend some time with Olympic ice skating champion Olga Sharutenko," asked the young man from Glasgow's Theatre Royal.

THE challenge was just too hard to resist. "How would you like to spend some time with Olympic ice skating champion Olga Sharutenko," asked the young man from Glasgow's Theatre Royal.

"She's playing Cinderella in a new production. And she's absolutely gorgeous."

Are you kidding? Spending time interviewing a stunning Russian with a smile more wondrous than Dr Zhivago's beats sitting a newspaper office any day. And before you could say Ugly Sisters I'd agreed. But, if something's too good to be true ... it usually is.

"All you have to do is skate alongside her for half an hour or so," he added.

Olga, I learned, is the star of Cinderella On Ice, the fabulous stage show that has seen the Theatre Royal transformed into an incredible ice palace.

The show is an unusual twist on the classic fairytale. It sees Cinderella as a watchmaker's daughter, and she dances through her eternal struggle to overcome those nasty stepsisters and land the man of her dreams.

But the last time I was on ice was a very long time ago, back in the hippy dippy days when the Monkees were charted with I'm A Believer. And even then I'd skated for less time than it takes for an ice cube to melt in a glass of Vimto.

Back then of course my 10-year-old my bones were made of rubber, my knees weren't stiff as skate blades, and that was way before I developed an acute fear of pain.

However, there was another problem. The lovely Olga is one of the Imperial Ice Stars, a 25-strong cast of world-class skaters, the cream of Russian skating talent who have won more than 250 competition medals.

How can I possibly balance on such a tiny sliver of steel a quarter of an inch wide and not fall flat on my axel and embarrass myself?

"My brain must have been frozen when I agreed to do this," I mutter as I meet Olga, who's offering a warm smile as we step out onto the 15m long ice lake."

Thankfully, Olga is hugely reassuring.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," she says. "I can feel you have good balance."

And so we set off, with her stage partner Andrev, who plays the male lead.

"Baby steps," I tell myself.

"If you fall try not to bring this lady down on top of you. She's a star and has to perform tonight."

But I managed not to fall, and then Olga took me round on her own. Together we must have looked like Torvill and Dean Park. And I trem-bled a little. I suddenly become aware that some of the skating moves performed by The Imperial Ice Stars had never been attempted before.

Some of my moves, I'm convinced, will never, ever be repeated by anyone else.

"Let's try raising your leg as we turn," says Olga.

I'm struggling to raise a smile. Then I relax a little. Now I'm gliding. Sort of. And I take to marvelling at the ice stage itself. It's incredible. I assumed that to create the rink some had run a hose from the Theatre Royal kitchen, gushing water onto the stage for about four days.

But what happens is that 4tonnes of crushed ice is brought in and sprayed with water. It takes over 140 man-hours to build the rink.

Underneath the ice is around 10 miles of piping containing 2500 litres of antifreeze. Now, I'd expected the theatre would be as cold as a traffic cop's stare but it isn't at all despite the fact the ice is at -15C, three times colder than a house freezer.

"Wait a minute," I say to Olga. "I'm enjoying this."

"It's all about practise," she says. Olga reveals she's been skating since she was age six. "I still love to skate. The theatre stage is very different from a national arena, it means you can't go quite as fast, and you can't jump triples, but the ice rink on stage is larger than people imagine."

I start to think this is great fun. My ankles feel like they're in a vice and the ice is really bumpy, from being cut up, however my skating is getting better. And I haven't fallen once.

Now my imagination is running riot. I can see myself in this hugely expensive production of Cinderella.

I can see myself as the Mayor's Son, this ice version of the Prince. I could perform lovely axels and toe loops with the best of them.

I can even see myself wearing one of those exquisite stage costumes which cost more that £4000. Yes, I can see myself in sequins.

"Oops!" My lack of concentration has taken me straight in the direction of the orchestra pit. Thankfully, I'm hauled back from an ignominious end just in time by my beautiful Russian princess.

It's a bit too soon to be thinking of wearing the sequins. I'll just watch the show instead.

• Cinderella On Ice is on at the Theatre Royal until Saturday.