I’ve learned and benefitted from all kinds of angels in my life.
A few days ago, my running angel died. It wasn’t until reading about all the other lives he touched that I realized how lucky I was to run with him for four years.
The following story about my running coach and friend, Ben, will give you an idea of the type of hero and angel he was. To many.

The loss of one of Annapolis’s most dedicated athletes means that the streets will be a little quieter, missing the familiar pitter-patter of his running shoes smacking the pavement.
Ben Moore, Annapolis’ godfather of running, died Thursday. He was 82.
He was a Naval Academy graduate, retired Marine colonel, founding father of the Annapolis Striders, namesake of Moore’s Marines, and competitor in approximately 65 marathons. Friends, colleagues and athletes he coached describe him as a man whose love for running was infectious.
“He would just draw you in,” said Sue Briers, a former Annapolitan who now lives in St. Augustine, Fla.
Ms. Briers first met Mr. Moore in 1982 when he coached Moore’s Marines, a club for training marathoners.
His commitment to running ultimately led Ms. Briers to compete in 70 marathons and several ultra-marathons – races that extend well beyond the 26.2 mile marathon course.

Today, Oprah Winfrey and Diddy compete in marathons, but when Mr. Moore first laced-up his running shoes the race was a much different monster and not nearly as popular.
“Not that many people did them then. The Marine Corps (Marathon) had 8,000 runners, now it is 30,000. You could sign-up the day before, now it’s a year in advance. It has become a fad now, it wasn’t a fad then. Ben did it long before then,” Ms. Briers said.
While Mr. Moore ran his fair share of marathons, he can take credit for helping thousands of others cross the finish line.
In 1978 he began training women who were preparing for the Marine Corps Marathon in Washington.
“He got them trained-up and called them Moore’s Marines,” said Ron Bowman, former Annapolis Striders president, a friend of Mr. Moore, and a Moore’s Marine himself.
Mr. Moore and Mr. Bowman first crossed paths when Mr. Bowman was training for a race.
“I was a runner but I did everything you could possibly do wrong,” he said.
But Mr. Moore created a training program that straightened him out, Mr. Bowman said.
And other’s benefitted from his expertise, too. Mr. Moore’s regimen became well-known and earned some national appeal. Runners from all over would call and ask for advice, Mr. Bowman said.
At the same time, Moore’s Marines grew. A group that was originally a dozen runners strong grew to 195 participants. They would meet on Saturdays at 7 a.m. sharp on Route 450 for a run, Mr. Bowman said.
Through the years, Mr. Moore’s training schedule has only suffered minor tweaks, Mr. Bowman said.
“It’s been fine-tuned but it’s the same thing as when Ben first handed out a slip of paper with a program on it,” he said.
While the marathon was the bulk of Mr. Moore’s running schedule, ultra-marathons were a part of his routine as well and included two secret ingredients for long-lasting energy during the race: milk and salami, Ms. Briers said.
Mr. Moore’s entrance into long-distance running comes from President John F. Kennedy, who encouraged Marines to complete a 50-mile hike like Civil War era soldiers once did. On a chilly February morning in 1961, Mr. Moore and a group of Marines trekked from Annapolis to Friendship International Airport, now BWI Thurgood Marshall Airport, and back. It took around 17 hours to complete the trip.
Since then, running has been his life.
“Running was his passion and he just followed it to the letter,” said Joe “Jogging Joe” Shafran, a friend of Mr. Moore and the author of a running column that appears in The Capital.
Mr. Moore was born in Mississippi. He would occasionally return to his home state to run the Mississippi Marathon, which was held not too far from his hometown.
Mr. Moore enrolled the Naval Academy and was a halfback on the football team. According to legend, he got into an argument with a referee at an Army-Navy game. With the ball in his hand, Mr. Moore insisted the game was called too early, robbing Navy of time that could have been used for a comeback win. Apparently Mr. Moore’s defiance upset the Army fans. They then rose from their seats and began to chase Mr. Moore. Being a reasonable man with an angry crowd charging in his direction, he did the smartest thing possible – he ran. As the story goes, Mr. Moore went all the way back to Annapolis, still carrying the game ball, making him the first person to return the pigskin back to the Yard.
“It was said that he ran the ball all the way back to Annapolis because he was such a great runner. But he would say ‘Well, I wasn’t that great.’ But he never refuted the story,” Mr. Shafran said.
Mr. Moore graduated from the Naval Academy in 1948 with a background in survey work. He was a Korea and Vietnam veteran and spent 21 years in the service. As a civilian he worked for 23 years as a land surveyor for J.R. McCrone and then spent 10 years working for himself.
He remained in relatively good health until shortly before his death. He never suffered any serious or debilitating athletic running injury except for persistent foot problems. During his later years he would run at the Halsey Field House at the Naval Academy. While he didn’t compete in as many races, he would still participate as a volunteer to help the event run smoothly, friends said.
Mr. Moore is the father of six children and is survived by his wife, Betty.
Information about services was not available as of last night.