I don’t forget how to walk on stairs, probably because I’ve never thought about it. If I lock up tomorrow, I will curse at you.
I can’t type if I think about it. My hands know what to do as long as I don’t bother them. Now that I’m thinking about it, I’m staring at the keyboard trying to remember where the keys are. So I’m sending curses your way anyhow!
I used to be able to step down off of a two-foot drop-off – like, say, a loading dock, or just a two-foot ledge of rock. Or like standing on a stool to reach an upper shelf.
I can’t step down that far any longer. My body is capable of it; I’m not too stiff, or too weak, or even too clumsy. But I can’t do it. My brain-leg coordination won’t permit it. I stand there and feel stupid and helpless, and end up turning around and getting down on one knee, and doing it that way.
Weird. And depressing!
I’ve never had this particular issue. However, I *have *forgotten other things related to muscle memory, notably a particular billing zip code that I type hundreds of times a week at work. If I think about it, I will mess it up. I couldn’t even tell you what it is now, except that it starts with a six (which I only know because it’s in Missouri, and *all *of Missouri’s zip codes start with six).
My fingers know it, my conscious brain does not. It’s weird. I’m glad my stair-spelunking skillset doesn’t work the same way. I definitely believe it’s possible, it’s just not an issue for me. Maybe your brain remembers stairs differently than mine does!