The Tamesis
Bash! A baseboard hit me hard in the core. “No pain, no Muay Thai!” exclaimed my coach. I’m out of breath and covered in sweat after two minutes of high-intensity mat training, but in between each round, I perform HIIT-like exercises, from squats to burpees. Now, I’m trying to do a sit-up and regain my composure. A playful trainer who has been my biggest cheerleader, testing my limits ever since I stepped foot into the Watchara gym. Bash! As the pads collided with my torso again, he smiled in his most playful yet genuinely encouraging way. It’s the kind of smile that suggests “you’ve got this” while silently pushing me to improve. Even though I moaned or struggled, I was living for every second.
My Muay Thai journey begins in early 2025 with classes at Four Seasons Hotel Koh Samui. The resort’s trainer is a former professional boxer, a lean, muscular machine. So when he told me he was going to demonstrate what a low kick felt like, he immediately saw fear in my eyes. “Don’t worry, I will only give you ten percent of my power.” He comforted. However, that 10% felt like a hot iron on my calf. I thought, if he went all out, could he break my fibula in half? It was impactful, to say the least. So much so that I signed up for two more courses. I was instantly hooked and quickly made plans to return to Thailand so I could devote myself to 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 to Muay Thai, their follow-up was, “Who’s ass do you want to kick?” While I didn’t have a blacklist, my intention wasn’t to fight or defend myself – although the latter was a big reason to start the sport. Instead, I found it to be an enjoyable workout and found that it lifted my mood. It not only invigorates but also clears the mind.
To take a step back, I went through a rough few years before discovering Muay Thai. You see, there’s a difference between loneliness and emptiness. I’m often alone. I travel at least 80% of the year, and most of that time alone. But I rarely feel alone. As an only child, I learned from an early age how to find comfort in loneliness. On the other hand, is it empty? Emptiness is darkness. I have to face reality, this is how I’ve been feeling. What was once satisfying has since become a chore. I had low self-esteem and lost all confidence. The worst part is, I no longer know what my purpose is. empty. But when I started getting into Muay Thai, I had a lightbulb moment.
Almost a year after completing my introductory course on Koh Samui, I found myself walking around downtown Bangkok, visiting nearly a dozen Muay Thai gyms. Rooftop, backyard, outdoors, indoors, weight machines, minimal equipment—they all have their pros and cons, but none felt quite right until I walked into Wokala. Tucked away on an unassuming road on the edge of the city’s bustling Wattana neighborhood, it’s small enough that I don’t feel like another number, but still has enough room for a few bags and a ring. Group classes involve multiple instructors, providing opportunities for variety. Plus, it has air conditioning. In places where pollution is high and winter temperatures still reach 90 degrees, cool, enclosed spaces can have a big impact.
