Ole Laursen: From Troubled Teen to Muay Thai Legend
When you first meet Ole Laursen, you’ll notice his quiet confidence, a calmness born not of comfort but of survival. Life has thrown Ole punches much harder than anything in Muay Thai. Yet, here he is, calm, collected, a champion turned coach, and now, soon-to-be father at the age of 47.
Ole’s introduction to Muay Thai wasn’t a graceful foray into martial arts. It was a gritty, violent antidote to a troubled youth, a way to fight back, both literally and metaphorically. "I started Muay Thai when I was 13. I was a troubled kid,” he tells me. “We fought a lot, and my older brother knew I was good at punching people in the face.” It’s a blunt, unapologetic reflection that perfectly encapsulates Ole's raw journey into the world of Muay Thai.
Born in the Philippines and raised in Denmark, Ole was no stranger to instability. He recalls with a casual nonchalance, "I changed schools 13 times." It’s a fact he drops like it's nothing, but it hints at a transient, turbulent upbringing. When his brother introduced him to a small Muay Thai gym in Copenhagen, something clicked. The promise of discipline, structure, and the possibility of becoming someone bigger than a street kid began to reshape his life. “Every week we’d spar,” Ole recalls, “and at first, I’d just get my ass whooped. But I stuck with it, and after a while, I was the one who was doing the whooping.” He found order in the chaos, and for once, the punches he threw and received came with a purpose. “I loved it. I got really good, really fast,” he says, remembering how he quickly rose through the ranks, eventually becoming Danish amateur champion at age 18.
But Ole’s story doesn’t follow the predictable arc of a young man chasing glory. Instead, it’s punctuated by gritty details of perseverance—sleeping on gym floors in Thailand, and fighting for free in pursuit of titles that might one day lead to something bigger. “I knew I was going to Thailand,” he says. “I wanted to be a champ.” At 19, Ole made the pilgrimage. It was nothing like the tourist-friendly training camps Thailand is known for today. It was hardcore. He trained relentlessly, running for miles every morning before enduring grueling sessions of clinching, sparring, and kicking. “I loved it,” he says. “I was living my dream, waking up on these hard mats, just grinding it out every day.” He speaks of this period in his life as if it were a chapter out of Kickboxer, the 1989 film starring Jean-Claude Van Damme, which he credits with inspiring his entire career. “I was living this movie,” he says. “Running 5k, 10k twice a day, training, eating, sleeping, and repeating.”
By the time Ole hit his stride in his early 20s, he had already racked up European titles and was on the path to becoming a world champion. But the pursuit of Muay Thai wasn’t just about belts and accolades. It was about proving something—to himself, to his family, and to the world. "Most fighters from my generation, we all got into it because we wanted to handle struggles physically," he says. "You want to stand up for yourself, for your brother, for your mother."
Despite his success in Europe, it was a stint in San Diego in the early 2000s that shaped Ole’s next phase. He found himself in an odd setting—coaching at a gleaming, commercialized gym, a far cry from the gritty fight gyms of Copenhagen and Thailand. "It was so strange for me," he admits. “No one was there to fight. Everyone was there to lose weight or something.” For Ole, teaching didn’t come naturally at first. But something changed when he began to see the potential in others, those who were hungry to learn, to fight.
Ole’s approach to coaching is simple: teach everyone to fight. "Even if you’re there to lose weight, I want that jab to be a real jab," he says, his voice firm with conviction. It’s not just about fitness for him. It’s about functional training, about giving people real, practical skills—skills that he’s used more in the streets than in the ring, he admits with a wry smile. “I call it life skills.”
And these life skills have made him an exceptional coach. Under his guidance, two of his fighters became world champions. He speaks of them with a quiet pride, their victories extensions of his own. “It’s great to be part of the process and helping them live the dream that I lived way back when,” he says.
But beneath his success lies a deeper, more complex history—one marked by failures and personal challenges that Ole is anything but shy about. "I was in and out of facilities," he says bluntly, reflecting on his youth. "I’m lucky I come from a time where they weren’t so hard on us. If I’d been in the States, I’d probably be in for life." It's a sobering admission, one that underscores just how much Ole has fought not only in the ring but in life. He doesn’t dwell on these missteps, though. Instead, he views them as necessary chapters in his journey.
In Boracay, Ole has built Legacy Gym, a sanctuary, a gym where fighters and fitness enthusiasts alike can come to train, to push themselves and most importantly, to grow. The gym is nestled away from the bustling tourist scene, offering serious training in a peaceful, almost spiritual setting. Fighters come from all over the world to learn from him, and some of his students have gone on to become world champions themselves. “I’ve helped a couple of guys make it big,” Ole says, with a quiet sense of pride. “It’s great to see them living the dream I lived.” It’s not just about Muay Thai; it’s about community and camaraderie. "That same guy who was punching you in the face in the gym? You’ll be hanging out with him on the beach later," he says. It’s this blend of intensity and humanity that defines Ole as both a fighter and a coach.
At 47, Ole’s days in the ring are over. He’s retired from fighting but hasn’t hung up his gloves completely. He’s about to become a father for the first time, a shift that has him thinking about his own journey from troubled youth to world champion. "I want to use what I’ve learned in life to give my boy a good life," he says.
As for whether his son will follow in his footsteps? Ole chuckles. “He’ll learn to fight. I’ll make sure of that. Whether he loves it or not, well, that’s up to him.”
Ole is hosting Guided Seeker for our first trip of 2025 to Boracay, Philippines for a week long intensive journey into the art of Muay Thai. We’re so excited to be training for 7 days at his Legacy Gym, coupled with the Guided Seeker style of travel - stunning eco-luxury accommodation by the beach, curated local food experiences, water activities, sunset siestas and so much more. Registration is now open, and all levels of Muay Thai practitioners are welcome and encouraged to join.