"We were just naturals, just smoking everybody in practice. We had to take it easy on our partners," Muñoz says of himself and his younger brother. "As the years went by, I got really good."
But his life changed during his freshman year of high school, when he discovered his dad wasn't his biological father. The revelation disturbed him, he says, and trouble such as "messing around and doing stupid things on the streets like selling drugs" soon followed.
In 2017, Muñoz was ripped off while buying codeine from a drug dealer. He rounded up some friends and contacted the dealer again to lure him out, then put him in the hospital.
But his life changed during his freshman year of high school, when he discovered his dad wasn't his biological father. The revelation disturbed him, he says, and trouble such as "messing around and doing stupid things on the streets like selling drugs" soon followed.
Muñoz was arrested at fourteen for burglary, and he was put on probation. One of the only ways he could leave the house was to go to the gym for wrestling practice. Then one of his friends at the gym invited him to ditch wrestling and start boxing instead.
He had his first fight when he was sixteen. According to Muñoz, he won by a knockout within the first thirty seconds.
"We were naturals at wrestling, so being a natural at boxing, I was like, 'This is where I belong,'" he says. "But I still had one foot in boxing and one foot in the streets."
He had his first fight when he was sixteen. According to Muñoz, he won by a knockout within the first thirty seconds.
"We were naturals at wrestling, so being a natural at boxing, I was like, 'This is where I belong,'" he says. "But I still had one foot in boxing and one foot in the streets."
In 2017, Muñoz was ripped off while buying codeine from a drug dealer. He rounded up some friends and contacted the dealer again to lure him out, then put him in the hospital.
"We beat him up and took all his stuff, and the beating went too far," Muñoz recalls. "We put him in a coma for about a month or so."
Police arrested Muñoz and his friends; he was charged him with fourteen felonies, including attempted murder, battery, burglary and first-degree assault. Facing five years in juvenile detention after pleading not guilty, Muñoz didn't like the odds. Instead of fighting this time, he fled.
"I felt like what I was going to get hit with wasn't appropriate," he says. "They switched me public defenders multiple times throughout my case; it was a lot. Toward the end, I knew I was going to get hit with stuff I didn't do. It wasn't worth it for me. I couldn't do it, so I went on the run."
"I felt like what I was going to get hit with wasn't appropriate," he says. "They switched me public defenders multiple times throughout my case; it was a lot. Toward the end, I knew I was going to get hit with stuff I didn't do. It wasn't worth it for me. I couldn't do it, so I went on the run."
Already bonded out, Muñoz skipped town four months after his last boxing match. He went to Fort Collins and lived in various hotels that were booked with a credit card given to him by a friend.
"It honestly was aiding a fugitive, but they knew I had better intentions than to continue breaking the law," he says. "It would’ve been easy to just gangbang and stay on the block."
He traveled from hotel to hotel in Fort Collins, catching rides with construction workers and farmers. But Muñoz returned to Greeley after the same friend who offered his credit card began renting a house with an extra room. He was hiding from law enforcement "right under their noses," Muñoz says.
"It honestly was aiding a fugitive, but they knew I had better intentions than to continue breaking the law," he says. "It would’ve been easy to just gangbang and stay on the block."
He traveled from hotel to hotel in Fort Collins, catching rides with construction workers and farmers. But Muñoz returned to Greeley after the same friend who offered his credit card began renting a house with an extra room. He was hiding from law enforcement "right under their noses," Muñoz says.
While he was on the run from the law, fugitive Efrain Muñoz says that he would still work out and jog around Greeley, where he was wanted.
Courtesy of Efrain Muñoz
"When I was on the run, I was really staying in shape," he says. "As crazy it sounds, I actually was going on jogs here and there, going on the run while on the run. It's kind of funny."
In 2020, three years into Muñoz's time as a fugitive, his cohorts in the attack on the codeine dealer were released from juvenile detention. Muñoz quickly fell back into his old ways, he admits.
One of those friends was Michael Hernandez. Muñoz says the two reconnected despite his hesitation.
"Everyone peer-pressured me to hanging with him again," he says. "The last six months that I was on the run, I was just being a hot boy, messing with the guys that had just got out of prison. I didn't even want to hang out with them."
In October 2020, Hernandez and Muñoz were in downtown Greeley in the middle of the day when Hernandez got into a fight. He ended up shooting and killing 27-year-old Maurice Maestas, a father of two daughters, in broad daylight around noon, just a few blocks from the Weld County Courthouse.
One of those friends was Michael Hernandez. Muñoz says the two reconnected despite his hesitation.
"Everyone peer-pressured me to hanging with him again," he says. "The last six months that I was on the run, I was just being a hot boy, messing with the guys that had just got out of prison. I didn't even want to hang out with them."
In October 2020, Hernandez and Muñoz were in downtown Greeley in the middle of the day when Hernandez got into a fight. He ended up shooting and killing 27-year-old Maurice Maestas, a father of two daughters, in broad daylight around noon, just a few blocks from the Weld County Courthouse.
Now both Hernandez and Muñoz were hiding, but it was only a matter of time before the chase ended. Law enforcement, including federal officers with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms (ATF) pulled the two over and arrested them in February of 2021. Muñoz later discovered that law enforcement had been watching him and Hernandez for a few weeks.
"ATF and the detectives knew everything," Muñoz says. "They tapped our phones and watched us for days and weeks before finally making their first move on me and wrangling me up. There was no struggle, no fight. I didn’t run after getting pulled over."
One of the first questions that the detectives asked the fugitive Muñoz was "How did you do it?" he remembers. "'For three freaking years, how?'"
The Weld County District Attorney's Office needed help prosecuting Hernandez because there was not enough eye-witness testimony. The DA asked Muñoz for his testimony and offered to take a second look at his 2017 attempted-murder case. Muñoz, who says he wasn't involved in the altercation leading to Maestas's death, accepted the offer.
Along with information from wiretaps, Muñoz's testimony helped Weld County prosecutors convict Hernandez of Maestas's murder. A jury found Hernandez guilty of second-degree murder in February 2023, and a judge sentenced him to sixty years in prison.
The DA revisited Muñoz's attempted-murder case and decided there wasn't enough evidence to prove that Muñoz was trying to murder the codeine dealer. Fourteen charges against him, and he ended up facing a single second-degree burglary charge, to which he pleaded guilty.
One of the first questions that the detectives asked the fugitive Muñoz was "How did you do it?" he remembers. "'For three freaking years, how?'"
The Weld County District Attorney's Office needed help prosecuting Hernandez because there was not enough eye-witness testimony. The DA asked Muñoz for his testimony and offered to take a second look at his 2017 attempted-murder case. Muñoz, who says he wasn't involved in the altercation leading to Maestas's death, accepted the offer.
Along with information from wiretaps, Muñoz's testimony helped Weld County prosecutors convict Hernandez of Maestas's murder. A jury found Hernandez guilty of second-degree murder in February 2023, and a judge sentenced him to sixty years in prison.
The DA revisited Muñoz's attempted-murder case and decided there wasn't enough evidence to prove that Muñoz was trying to murder the codeine dealer. Fourteen charges against him, and he ended up facing a single second-degree burglary charge, to which he pleaded guilty.
He was sentenced to two years of probation and six months of work release, which allows inmates to leave their confinement for work and return in the evening. Muñoz did his work release from a Weld County jail and wrapped up the sentence early with good behavior and volunteer hours.
Upon leaving work release in April 2022, Muñoz began his two years of probation. His probation officer gave him the green light to return to the boxing ring, allowing him to fight for the first time in nearly four years. Muñoz lost the match, but he says he wasn't nervous when he walked into the ring.
Not everyone is sold on Muñoz's redemption story, however. His probation officer and the judge who sentenced him in 2023 told Muñoz that he got off easy. Although his time in custody was relatively short given the crimes he was connected to, Muñoz feels that he learned from his mistakes while on the run.
"Even the detective that questioned me when I first got caught knew I wasn’t the same eighteen-year-old kid that I was when I first made that bold and stupid decision," Muñoz says
Getting caught had been a relief in some ways, Muñoz says. He was able to see his family again now that he wasn't in hiding. Eventually he realized that his decision to go on the run hadn't just affected him, but the people around him, too. He now believes that if he hadn't been on the run, he would have liked to start a family of his own.
"I couldn't be there for my family, not just my future children, but my mother and younger brothers. I was definitely setting my younger brothers the wrong example," he says. "Anything you do affects everybody around you, whether it's good or bad."
"I couldn't be there for my family, not just my future children, but my mother and younger brothers. I was definitely setting my younger brothers the wrong example," he says. "Anything you do affects everybody around you, whether it's good or bad."
Muñoz decided to stay sober and focus on his passion for boxing. He finished his probation in December and began looking for a gym where he could train. He quickly found Colorado Combative Sports Academy in Commerce City, which is dedicated to mentorship and underprivileged fighters, according to co-owner Jamie Maronek.
Muñoz lost his last fight on June 29. His coach, Jamie Maronek, says that Muñoz's only problem was that he was too excited and didn't pace himself.
Courtesy of Efrain Muñoz
"Efrain acts like a lot of these older, seasoned pros," Maronek says. "He has a maturity that is above his age."
She describes Muñoz as an outgoing mentor who is "wise above his years" and unafraid to encourage boxers of all ages and talent levels.
"He'll motivate them, he'll encourage them, sometimes he'll get in the cage to hold pads to help the younger kids," Maronek says. "He's all about community in the gym."According to Maronek, Muñoz has been "very open about his past. He doesn't try to shelter or hide it," and that's why other fighters in the gym accepted him right away, she says. After all, coming from "a hard past" isn't uncommon in combat sports, she notes.
Munoz's last fight was on June 29 at the Blue Sports Stable in Superior. It was his first fight in eighteen months, and he lost to the shorter, older and more novice Jesus Gonzalez from Fort Collins. Right now, Muñoz's professional record is 2-4, but just getting back in the ring is a victory in itself, he argues.
"He didn't get beat by his opponent. He beat himself just in not pacing through the fight," she says. "He's so determined and his drive is there that he didn't pace throughout the fight."
Maronek says that pacing is Muñoz's only problem. Otherwise, "he has very good pressure, so he doesn't wait to let the fight come to him.
"He hits hard. He has an incredibly powerful punch, and he doesn't do the same punches every time," she explains. "You can change where you're at, you can be who you want to be, and you can do it through what you love. It's why people should come see him fight. He uses his passion to make himself and the community better. It's not an outlet for negativity. He uses it as an outlet for positivity."
Muñoz hopes to fight in late August and says he's focusing on little besides boxing and improving as a person in the meantime.
"I screwed up a lot, and so I look forward to leaving that good footprint in the community and restoring all the damage that I did," he says.
