Whack! A kick pad slams down on my core. “No pain, no Muay Thai!” exclaims my coach. I’m gasping for air and covered in sweat after an intense two minutes of pad work, but between rounds there are HIIT-like exercises that range from squats to burpees. Now, I’m trying my best to do a sit-up in the midst of regaining composure. All the while, one of the impish trainers, who has been my biggest cheerleader since I stepped foot into Watchara Gym, is testing my limits. Whack! He smiles in the most mischievous yet genuinely encouraging way as the pad clashes against my torso once more. It’s the type of grin that implies “you’ve got this” while silently pushing me to improve. And as much as I groaned or struggled, I was living for every second of it.
My Muay Thai journey kicked off at the start of 2025 with a class at Four Seasons Koh Samui. The resort’s instructor, a former pro fighter, is a lean, muscular machine. So when he told me he’d demonstrate what a low kick feels like, he instantly clocked the fear in my eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll only give you 10% of my power,” he said reassuringly. And yet, that 10% felt like a hot iron had struck my calf. I wondered, would he be able to snap my fibula in half if he gave it his all? It was impactful, to say the least. So much so that I signed up for two more sessions. I was immediately hooked and quickly made mental plans to return to Thailand so that I could dive into the sport.
When I first told my best friends that I wanted to learn Muay Thai, their first question was, “What is that?” After simplifying it as Thai boxing their follow-up was, “Whose ass are you trying to kick?” While I don’t have a hit list, my intentions also weren’t to fight or defend myself—though the latter is a great reason to pick up the sport. Instead, I found it to be an enjoyable workout and noticed it lifted my mood. Not only was it invigorating, but it also provided mental clarity.
To backpedal a little more, in the years leading up to discovering Muay Thai, I had been going through a difficult time. You see, there’s a difference between loneliness and emptiness. I’m often alone. I travel at least 80% of the year and the majority of it is solo. But I rarely feel lonely. As an only child, I grew up learning how to find comfort in solitude. Empty, on the other hand? Emptiness is dark. And I had to face the reality that that’s what I had been feeling. What was once fulfilling had since turned into a chore. I had low self-esteem and lost all self-confidence. Worst of all, I didn’t know what my purpose was anymore. Empty. But when I picked up Muay Thai, something clicked.
Almost exactly a year after my introductory class on Koh Samui, I found myself walking around central Bangkok, weaving in and out of nearly a dozen Muay Thai gyms. Rooftop, backyard, outdoors, indoors, weight training machines, bare minimum equipment—they all had their share of pros and cons, but none had felt quite right until I walked into Watchara. Tucked away on the fringe of the city’s bustling Watthana neighborhood down an inconspicuous road, it was small enough that I wouldn’t feel like another number, but still had enough space for several bags and a ring. Group classes involve multiple coaches, providing an opportunity for variety. Plus, it’s air-conditioned. In a place where pollution can reach harmful conditions and winter still calls for 90 degrees, a cool, enclosed space makes a significant difference.
#Muay #Thai #Helped #Love #Bangkokand #MyselfAgain
