Sporting careers have a nasty habit of ending without sufficient warning, the inevitability that body or mind, or both, are no longer able to perform like they once did so often blocked out by competitors well-versed in the obsessive pursuit of the impossible.

Runners, of course, have the leeway to carry on until the legs give way. Yet although Andrew Lemoncello has flown half way across the world to join the fray at today’s inaugural Stirling Scottish Marathon, the Fifer is soon to embrace the leap into the athletics after-life, still keen, still enthused but with focus shifted.

An Olympian as a steeplechaser in Beijing in 2008, the 34-year-old’s hopes of further Games turns in London and Rio were derailed by injury. Last year was always a long shot, he knew, but to come up short still trumped not trying at all.

Better once, at least, than never.

“It makes it easier – and harder – because you got that big life aim,” he reflects. “I had a goal to get to the Olympics. Then you’ve gone. And it makes it harder for you as a competitive person because there’s almost an out by saying ‘I’ve already done that.’ Whereas I remember when I was aiming for it, every single day was about trying to get into the team.

“It’s easy to slip back when you accomplish a goal. It was a huge achievement and one of the best things I’ve ever done in my life but I’d have loved to have gone to another Games or maybe two. But I can still say I’m an Olympian.”

Now, a new chapter beckons. Long based in the mountainous town of Flagstaff in Arizona, he is preparing to relocate his young family to Oregon to take up a position with Adidas, helping to create whatever passes for the next generation of shoes.

“I’m not sure exactly what it will involve but it is my dream job,” he smiles. He can peacefully accept that others now command the stage, and – in truth – to greater effect.

Nine years ago, fresh from two world championship appearances, the Great Britain internationalist was a domestic oddity, the outstanding Scot in an era where the well ran dry.

No longer. In recent weeks, he has once more undertaken the role of elder statesman and host to the troop of compatriots who have taken up temporary residence in Flagstaff, among them Chris O’Hare, Laura Muir and Andrew Butchart.

The latter forbade him from slacking off, even though it is barely four weeks since Lemoncello’s attempt to qualify for a third world championship came unstuck at the London Marathon amid a bout of cramps. The overwhelming sense of optimism pervading domestic distance running gladdens his heart.

“Now, with the likes of Andrew, Callum Hawkins, Laura Muir, Lynsey Sharp, they’re all fighting to be at the very top,” he says. “For me, it would have been amazing to have athletes of that standard to push me when I was running in Scotland or Britain. I had to go to the States to get that but I’d have loved that when I was doing well. And I love seeing them over in Arizona and I’ll miss

seeing them around.”

He will watch on with the keenest of interest. But family, more now than ever, will come first. His eldest child Isla, who has Down’s Syndrome, is filled with fun while one-year-old Sebastian has brought further joy to Lemoncello and his wife Julie. A summer traipsing around the global circuit lacks the appeal of yore.

“I love to travel a lot but since we’ve had kids, the moment I’m at the airport, I find it hard to leave. I’m not seeing them for four weeks at the moment and that’s the longest-ever gap.”

Hence Stirling – where past maestros Liz McColgan and Zola Budd are also among the field – may be his last home appearance. He will give it his all, and see what remains untapped.

“There’s no pressure on me. No-one knows how the course will run so I’ll just try to go with the leaders and take it as it comes.”