When I was 13 my scrawny ass got kicked square in the chest by my first horse, a gelding I was breaking. He and I were calmly standing there, just brushing the fucker's tail but unknown to me some hair had caught in the curry comb and I jerked a couple of tail hairs out on the upstroke. I don't remember getting kicked but I do remember seeing him bucking forward, his ass all hunched up, fixin' to kick and then I definitely remember the sound it made when he connected to my breastplate. I came to for a couple of seconds up on my hands and knees about 10 feet away, and thought, "Well, I'm not dead." Then darkness warshed over the Dude.
Luckily, my dad heard the commotion and came running over. He said he my eyes were rolled back in my head and he couldn't get a pulse for what seemed forever but probably was 2 minutes max. Probably closer to 1 but he thought I was a goner. I finally started gasping and he got a pulse and here I am today. I had a 1 inch welp the shape of a horseshoe square on my bony sternum and was sore all summer.
All in all, better than getting kicked in face I guess.