Robert Ashley Meyers was a get-up-and-go kind of guy. He boxed, ran marathons, and operated a successful ticket sales company with several partners.

“When the birds tweet, I’m on my feet,” the Narberth resident liked to say.

“Even before they tweeted, he used to run to different places,” said his father-in-law, Joseph Ball.

On Tuesday, April 28, the day of the Thunderbirds and Blue Angels flyover of Philadelphia, Mr. Meyers, 56, was out for a run in Lower Merion when he was struck by a car while crossing City Avenue near Overbrook Parkway. He died minutes later of multiple injuries at Lankenau Medical Center.

The Montgomery County Coroner’s Office ruled his death an accident. Lower Merion police were investigating. For his family, though, it was as if a force of nature had been stilled.

“Everybody was in shock,” said Ball, “not only the family but business associates, neighbors, and friends. He was well liked and very admired.”

Born in Philadelphia, Mr. Meyers grew up in Lower Merion and never left. He was a 1982 graduate of Harriton High School and a 1986 graduate of Temple University.

In 1991, Mr. Meyers and business partner Robert Chipetz founded Center Stage Tickets, a Cherry Hill purveyor of tickets to major sporting events, theater shows, and concerts. Later, it moved to Pennsauken and finally Bala Cynwyd.

“They started with nothing and built it into a company that did business all over the world,” Ball said. “They dealt with big companies and individuals. If you wanted a seat at the Super Bowl, he would get it for you. If you wanted to buy one ticket to a 76ers game, you could get it.”

Despite running a successful business, the tall and powerfully built Mr. Meyers was best known for his avocations. A big one was amateur boxing.

He learned the sport as a boy from local boxers and trainers at various gyms across the region. His last bout, at 40 years of age, was a charity match in which he beat an opponent 20 years his junior in a second-round knockout.

“He did say after that fight, ‘I’m never going to do this again,’” Ball said.

When not boxing, he studied boxing lore. “He had a reputation for being a boxing encyclopedia, knowing facts about prominent and obscure boxers going back generations,” his family said in a statement.

He ran four times a week, either on a treadmill at the Bellevue Sporting Club in Center City or outside, taking various routes to avoid tedium. He completed marathons in Philadelphia and Boston.

He stretched his muscles and touched his toes before running, said his wife, Nanelle Ball Meyers. “I swear his stretching was longer than his workouts,” she said.

His family said he was unceasingly positive. He was known for his one-liners that drew listeners and made them laugh.

“He always saw the best in people even when they didn’t see it themselves,” his wife said. “No matter if a person was a prominent politician or the corner shoeshine worker, he treated everyone with the utmost respect and dignity.”

He was fun to live with because of his quirks, his wife said. He loved to travel, and would locate the resident boxer in any locale and pay the man a visit. He had seen every Rocky movie.

When something was bothering him, he went to his father’s grave for a talk. “Often, he took one of his sons with him,” Ball said. He loved to do laundry and fold the clean clothes.

Besides his wife of 26 years, he is survived by children Maxwell, Jessica, and Benjamin.

Funeral services were Monday, May 4. Only eight mourners attended, but many more watched via livestreaming. Next to his casket were a box of laundry detergent, his boxing gloves, and his running shoes.

Memorial donations may be made to a cause or institution of the donor’s choice.