If you are reading this I think it is fair to assume that, if you have made a resolution, there is a good chance that it is related to fitness or nutrition; such resolutions topped a recent poll in the States closely followed by several relating to finances. Whatever your resolution I wish you determination. Sorry, I cannot wish you luck; there is none of that involved in maintaining personal discipline.

I am personally not a fan of making New Year's resolutions and have never been convinced to ever make any! I am of the stance that, if you really wish to achieve something, then why wait for the arbitrary date of January 1? 

The celebration of the New Year is the oldest of all holidays. It was first observed in ancient Babylon about 4000 years ago, when celebrations lasted for 11 days (not really a helping hand for many modern day resolution makers!) In the years around 2000 BC, Babylonians celebrated the beginning of a new year on what is now March 23, although they themselves had no written calendar.

The Romans continued to observe the New Year on March 25, but their calendar was continually tampered with by various emperors so that it soon became out of synchronization with the sun. In order to set the calendar right, the Roman senate, in 153 BC, declared January 1 to be the beginning of the New Year.

In summary, all this ‘new year hype' really is just tradition and, like the emperors of Rome, you would be completely justified in picking any day to start your new year! All this said, there is simply no escaping the tradition of ‘January 1, New Year, New Start'. While you may have resolved to cut back on the biscuits, preserve your hard earned pounds or maximise your weekly mileage; you are likely to encounter a character determined to out-do you with the enormity of their resolution.

Don't be undermined; it is common knowledge that the bigger the climb the tougher the going. While watching the news on January 1 I heard about such a character; let me tell you about Stefaan Engels, aka Marathonman. This guy has resolved to put his name in the Guinness Book of Records by breaking the record for the number of consecutive marathons; this record currently stands at 52 days, so 52 marathons.

However, Mr Engels is not satisfied with breaking the record; he is actually aiming to run a marathon a day for the next 365 days. Feeling like your resolution is a little weak? Respect to this man, he ran his third in four hours; only 362 to go!

I am going to be daring and suggest that the chances of Marathonman quitting are going to substantially heighten after February 21; the record will be broken and so his primary goal (according to the media) will be achieved.

Where is his finish line then? Maybe December 31 2010, but this really is a tall order given the possible obstacles and the obvious ‘get out clause'; ‘the record is broken, job done'. Maybe motivation levels are super high to run another 313 marathons, but for most mere mortals there must be a definitive goal in sight; simply carrying on with any regime or practise without an ultimate goal is not ideal. Bear this in mind as you make a sprint start with your resolutions - you are highly likely to lose your way if you have not defined your finish line.

Maybe you can draw motivation from Marathonman, follow him at: www.marathonman365.be

Emma Silversides is a professional cyclist for the Lotto Belisol team and is based in Belgium. Here she shares her insight into the continental women's scene.

I do not like to think that I take things for granted, but I am only human and too often I do. I do appreciate the generosity of sponsors, both team and personal, who have supported me so far in my cycling.

This I guess is more appropriate for me than the majority of readers; I am reliant solely on these sponsors for my cycling- they give me my bike, a helmet, food and drink to fuel the training and also clothing to brave all conditions. None of these items do your wallet any favours. It was always with huge reluctance that I parted with money to buy jerseys and shorts; how could something so simple be so expensive?

However, good clothing goes along way to enhance the enjoyment of a training ride; skimp or get it wrong and you can be in all sorts of trouble! So why do amateurs have to pay so much for their clothing?

This year I rode in Decca clothing. They took the ‘prime' real estate slot on the kit! I had good contact with the staff so here was an opportunity for me to discover the answer to my question; I would pay a visit to the modest premises in the East Flemish town of Zottegem.

Decca are one of only two Belgian clothing manufacturers who can rightly claim that their cycle clothing is ‘made in Belgium'; that means from start to finish. The base layer cloth is woven from the tread there in the factory before being placed, 40 layers deep, on a huge conveyor. Material for shorts, jerseys, gilets and tights are prepared in a similar fashion. A vacuum sucks out all air to eliminate every wrinkle and kink while a tiny rotary-mounted blade gets to work cutting out every element of the item - sleeves, side, front and back panels, collars, pockets, legs...

The elements were then moved along the line to get some colour on; a process known as sublimation (accruing at 205°c) involving ink on paper being turned into a gas which in turn deposits itself on the material. Then the real labour begins! Central to the factory floor are four columns of 12 sewing machines- yes just the sort your mother used to use, completely manual. Each machinist was personally responsible for, and indeed specifically trained to operate, three or four machines; every machine on the factory floor was calibrated to perform a particular job - collar, sleeve construction, pocket addition.

Along the columns you could see boxes of garments gradually taking shape. One of the hardest sewing constructions I was told was inserting the chamois; "it's a 3D item going into a 2D piece of Lycra." I was guilty of taking things for granted!

Machines in rows on the factory floor, never all occupied at the same time but always ready to go. It was truly fascinating wandering round the factory and being able to appreciate just how much work does go into making a jersey.

With the help of yours truly, British Cycling has unveiled its inaugural Hall of Fame.

They're a shrewd lot, those people in Manchester - make the editor part of the judging panel and you instantly validate the selection. Joking aside, getting six bike riders to agree on anything is tricky and I was amazed we were able to whittle the list down to just 50 in little more than four hours.

There are so many deserving cases, nobody should be excluded, but it really wouldn't be practical to induct 500 people in one rush.

So here's phase one, a list that includes plenty of predicatble names, but to be truly representaive of British Cycling it also includes those volunteers, officials and organisers, without whom it wouldn't be possible to run our sport.

Our task became considerably easier once we decided to exclude current international riders who'll only become eligible once they retire.

My apologies to all those who didn't make it this time; if you're not on the list that's obviously the fault of somebody else on the panel. And before anyone asks, neither Peter King nor Hugh Porter nominated themselves.

Robert Garbutt is editor of Cycling Weekly

The British Cycling Hall of Fame>>

National cyclo-cross champion Helen Wyman hits the road for markets, vino, winning races and showers with the boys.

Having had a couple of weeks back in Belgium we decided it was long enough and the car seats were beginning to lose the shape of our bums, so this week we are back on another road trip, this time to Germany, Italy and Switzerland.

The event we did on Saturday in Frankfurt is a great race and the organiser is the cutest man you have probably ever met and has one of the most organised well run events outside of the world cups. Every year all of the best riders go and the racing is great.

Three years ago on our first time there me and Gabby were slightly surprised to find that the men and women showered together....at the same time.....in the same showers....naked. A little apprehensive at first, we realised no one was actually playing a practical joke on us and all of the women were in there with the veteran men. Every year it is slightly less strange to us although last year me and Gabs were the only ones in there when a junior boy who had been on doping control appeared, looking even more scared than we had the previous years. As my brother so rightly pointed out to me it has to be more embarrassing for men than women. Poor boy.

This race also has a common theme as Stef usually promises me something in return for a set result. One year when I was second in the World Cup and this race was the next day, I was promised a visit to the Christmas market if I won. I didn't! The next year if I won we got to listen to the Christmas CD the whole three and half hours home. I didn't (Gabby was very grateful on that occasion). Fortunately, this year there were no conditions and our next port of call was Innsbruck with one of the most famous Christmas markets in Europe: a million Italians and everything that is Christmas squeezed into a small space, Stefs favourite things.

So after the race we headed towards Italy with an overnight stop at our friends house in Innsbruck and off course the very pretty Christmas market, with amazing smells and pretty little gifts it was as good as I had anticipated. We arrived near Venice in torrential rain with already large puddles covering the fields around the hotel. Ben Berden informed us that the course ‘was' really fast around vineyards with a lot of fields but he didn't hold out much hope for tomorrow!

Italy: call that a shower?

It rained all night and all through the next day and it was wicked - mud everywhere. I tried to get the newest unmuddy lines every lap but after a few laps of riding in the trees I decided I was at no advantage and just take the shortest line. I won by two minutes but more importantly I was given a really lovely looking bottle of Italian Spirmonte (for want of another word, champagne) and a pretty little silver ring. Not wishing to go on about the showers but I'm pretty sure they weren't the official ones that two under-23 boys decided to wash in after the race.

Our next destination was Rimini on the east coast a couple of hours south of Venice, where it was still raining. When we arrived at our hotel room (thankfully it had stopped raining 100km north of here), I went upstairs to find some roses laid out on the bed with a nice silver ring laying next to it. Being quite tired it took me a good five minutes to work out that Stef had just taken my prizes from the race and dumped them on the bed so they didn't get damaged.

Now we are here for three days before we head north again to Switzerland for another race on Sunday. I've already got some bike tour maps and think I might try out the ‘Pantani route' tomorrow, which incorporates his home town, favourite climb and fan club café.

Until then.