JUST PUBLISHED: I Train Muay Thai in Phuket — and a Coach Told Me I’m “Very Old but Arousing”

On Soi Ta-Iad, Phuket’s “Fitness Street” mornings smell like Tiger Balm and rain-soaked palms. One kilometre of Muay Thai gyms, MMA cages, protein shake stands, health cafés, and people voluntarily suffering in paradise. You see the same faces every day, a transient fight family.

I also train at home in Australia. Meditation never quieted my mind. Muay Thai did. Breath, movement, impact.

By 6am, scooters hum awake. Runners climb the hill to the Big Buddha in thick heat. Pads crack like thunder across open-air rings. Muay Thai training runs from 8 to 10am and 4 to 6pm. Those who do both spend the hours in between horizontal, recovering, and pretending they do not miss office chairs and air-conditioning.

And then…romance(?) in Phuket

I tried a few gyms. Most corrected my footwork. One head kru (coach) corrected nothing but gave me the strangest compliment of my life: “When I first saw you, I was impressed by your beauty. It is true that you are old, but you look young and your gaze aroused me.”

Uhhh…thank you? And they say romance is dead.

I laughed. “What do you mean I’m old?” 

“I mean you’re old. I don’t mean it in a bad way. I apologise for using that word. You’re very old. That’s why I said it. But you look young. I’m very sorry.”

He kept digging himself into a deeper hole. Sir, please pick one sentiment and stay with it. Curious and against my better judgement, I asked what he liked about me besides my body.

He thought deeply. Spiritually: “I respect your personality because you are a woman. In our Turkish law, women are respected and must be protected.”

I did not know Turkish law applied in Thailand. Good to know the United Nations has eyes everywhere.

He said he would love to get a juice with me but could not because he was, “broke, hot, and too horny to do activities.”

A modern-day sonnet.

He ended with: “Where do you live? Your looks arouse me sexually.”

I never returned to that gym. Boundaries are also a martial art.

A home gym finds you

People didn’t ask where you worked. They asked how long you were staying, how many rounds you’d done that morning, who you trained with. I picked the right gym early on — calm trainers, unexpected dancing, zero ego. They studied my every move, shook their heads, and delivered coaching in its purest form: “No.”

When I tensed, they reminded me to shake it out. “Sabai sabai.” Relax relax.

Two syllables against years of tension. Some days, it worked better than therapy.

The trainers taught me how to smoke

Phuket has a weed shop every three metres, like Starbucks. I had never smoked. I didn’t even know how to flick a lighter.

One kru nodded like this was a solvable problem. “Bring it. I show you.”

After class, he walked me behind the gym to where the trainers lived — tiny rooms, sandals lined at every door, fans rattling like old tuk-tuks. A few gathered around, smiling, curious.

He placed the lighter in my hand and guided my thumb with the same calm patience he used correcting my technique. “Like elbow,” he grinned. “Same movement.”

The flame sparked. They cheered.

Somehow, the softest moment in a place built for impact — five Muay Thai trainers teaching me something tiny and caring like it was something big.

Fight night in Sinbi Stadium

My regular gym wasn’t just where we trained. It was where we belonged. So, when one of our trainers had a fight at Sinbi Stadium, we went — all of us in a bus.

When he walked to the ring, the gym erupted: whistles, back slaps, arms thrown around shoulders. His opponent kept spitting out his mouthguard, the universal, “I need a timeout.” Technically a tactic, unofficially cheating, officially annoying.

When the ref didn’t deduct points, our krus went from “sabai sabai” to “REFEREE, OPEN YOUR EYES” in seconds.

I didn’t grow up with team sports. I never understood people who cried over football. But when our trainer won and they lifted him on their shoulders — sweaty, limping, grinning — I got it.

What I found on Fitness Street

Meditation: “Notice your thoughts.”

Muay Thai: “You do not have thoughts anymore.”

I didn’t become a new person. I became a calmer one who happens to know how to teep. I came to fight. I left softer. Earnt-soft, not wilted-soft.

Some people go to Thailand to party. I went to sweat, learn to use a lighter, and trigger someone’s horny spiritual awakening. And it was perfect.