Lizzy Hawker: 'Somewhere, it just became normal to run 14 hours a day' "I can't remember ever not running," Hawker shrugs. I guess, somewhere along the line, it just became normal to go out everyday. But there's running. And then there's ultra running. Hawker took up the former as a student and attempted her first London Marathon in 2000, while working for the British Antarctic Survey (she holds a doctorate in polar oceanography from Cambridge). But a mere race of 26 miles wasn't challenge enough. "I remember a friend saying, "well if you like marathons and you like hills - why not do a marathon in a hilly place?"" she says. So followed the Snowdonia marathon (first place); the Welsh 1000m Peaks (second place); and the Barry 40 miles, which she entered. When I was visiting friends. I was going to be there anyway, so thought I may as well give it a go. She won. But Hawker's first real test came later that year, in 2005, when - on a whim - she entered herself for the Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc, one of the hardest trail challenges in the world at 165km. It was, she explains, an excuse to "go out to the Alps for a couple of weeks." She was totally unprepared. Ten days before, she decided to buy some trail running shoes. She'd never attempted to run so far before and had no idea whether she would finish. She had no coach and no support team. Under current rules, she wouldn't even have been allowed to enter. And when she became the first woman to cross the line, after 26 hours, 53 minutes and 51 seconds, a star was born. Since then, Hawker has won the race an unprecedented five times. She's set ultra running records the world over. What's more, she challenges herself on all surfaces - from asphalt to the Himalayas. It's funny really, because most people racing marathons will have worked up to that distance from 5km or 10km. Whereas I fell in at the long end," she muses. Hawker's incredible endurance was formed on the streets of east London, where she was raised. Despite these urban beginnings, she's had a keen love of the mountains since a family holiday to Alps, aged six. Indeed, ultra running was initially just a way of ensuring she could visit them as often as possible. Now, it's a way of life. This year, she was named one of National Geographic's Adventurers of the Year, although finds such accolades uncomfortable. It's a strange feeling, because I feel there's so much more I can achieve. I don't feel I've reached my best. She also shows humility when I ask about young women coming up in the ultra-running world. Do they come to her seeking advice? Endurance running is growing and there are more and more women racing. They do email me. It's quite strange to think that people are looking up to me, when I still have so much to figure out. Hawker is nothing if not ambitious. And she's never satisfied; "it's hard to feel you've performed to your potential." Next in her busy season is a 100 mile mountain race in Andorra, comprising 13,000 metres of ascent and descent. And, this month, she took part in the 277km Mustang Mountain Trail Race. So how did she prepare? Oh, the week before the race I went up to Everest base camp and ran back to Kathmandu. It's 319km. She broke her own speed record for the distance by eight hours, finishing in 63 hours and 8 minutes. Not bad for a bit of pre-race training. Hawker is known on the circuit for her Zen-like concentration ("I must have an intense look on my face or something") and ability to recover quickly. Fellow runners have likened her to Buddha. She's also something of a nomad - "I'm always on the move and don't have a permanent base" - and likes to go on solo multi-day runs. Although she takes a mobile phone, "there isn't always reception." It's a philosophy that went badly wrong on the Great Himalaya Trail in 2011. Alone in a remote forest, she lost the path and was stranded in the dark, among nature, for three nights. What's more, she'd misplaced the bag containing her satellite phone, maps, compass, camera and journey permits. Left with only a stove, sleeping bag and food, Hawker had enough to keep her alive. But she couldn't communicate that to the outside world. "I simplified life right down to the essentials," she recalls. But I had a very strong feeling that everything would be fine if I just took my time to find the right way out. She eventually emerged in a nearby village, sunburnt and covered in scratches. Presumably she's now established a support network should it happen again? People know when to expect me back. But I don't have any day-to-day contact and I'm comfortable with that. On the subject of her loved ones, Hawker is reticent. She tells me that her parents and younger brother have seen her race. But that for everyone else, "it's hard to explain what it's like." Last December she suffered a stress fracture and was unable to run for seven weeks. I wonder whether she was finally able to relax. Wasn't there a slight sense of relief at being able to catch up on life outside running? "Moving outside is very important to me, so it wasn't easy," she says. You have to make decisions about what's important to you and there are sacrifices. Although there are moments when you think, "what am I doing?" I think that at different times in your life, things take on a different importance. You might be buried exams. Then it might be running races or having a family. There's a time for everything. Does she want a family? "That depends if I find the right man to have one with," she jokes. It is 6pm in Kathmandu and Hawker is off to enjoy the local cuisine with a friend. Then it's back to training - a 12 hour day here, a 14 hour session there - surrounded by the most glorious scenery. "Sometimes I'm running somewhere just beautiful and you want to sit down and enjoy it," she says. I have to kick myself into remembering that it's actually a race and that I might have to come back later to enjoy the place. For now, there's a destination to reach - and that's the finish line.