In my first semester at this college, I was in an ice skating class with
Caryn Kadavy. She was in the 1988 Winter Olympics.
She'd remember me as the guy who couldn't get his skates sharpened until about 3 weeks before the end of class, and could hardly do much of anything on the ice, except not fall.
I was excessively careful on the ice, and never fell once. I fell flat on my back once when the basement flooded back home. I smashed my toe on a chair as I went down, and it went numb for a few hours, and I messed up my neck a bit. It now has less range of motion, and I still try to keep from turning my head as I can get headaches doing so. My reflexes didn't even kick in when I fell. I just slipped and crashed straight to the ground, with my hands still in front of me. The only thing cushioning my head was the hood of the coat I happened to still have on.
Given my pathetic reaction time, I had no intention of falling again on a slick surface.