First time I ever went out, many moons ago, the best thing I learned was that it was better to fall backwards than forward. Falling downhill on your face feels like your brain's getting rattled around. I guess it is, really.
Worst fall I've had since I picked it back up last year was a tomahawk in heavy spring corn that at first I thought had dislocated my shoulder. Took a minute to gather my brain back up and realize that I hadn't lost or busted anything in the crash. Last run of the season, too.