My mother is convinced I could do all sorts of things as a small child. Being able to launch myself from 13 stairs up slo-mo down stairs to land safely with a thud was the least of her frets. I did it on purpose because I thought/knew I could. The only time I've really ever experienced that feeling of slow motion since was when I got hit by a BMW going 80mph on a duel carriageway, so perhaps in reality I just threw myself down the stairs for a lark and the slow perception only happened in my mind.
I survived the years of stair abuse unscathed and the BMW with a bruised elbow - the BMW fared much worse and looked like a baby elephant had hit it.
Make of it all what you will, in real time I no doubt bounced off that car, or off them stairs like a brick, but during the slowed sensation of time maybe the brain could work so lightening fast as to be able to steer my body to land safely, even as I watched my reflection sail through the air in a huge bed shop window.
Perhaps we slo-mo'ers are carried to safety by unseen hands. Who knows?
Maybe I was just a small human lemming.
Small children on the whole have no fear of physical danger unless they experience it, time means nothing and all feel invincible. It could be that we put ourselves in a daydream / trance like state and were convinced we can or have done such things. If I could do that now perhaps I could happily walk across hot coals, but age brings fear of pain and untimely death and the strange occurances of childhood are cast aside as folly or dream.
I'm trying to recall when and what could have stopped me hurling myself off the stairs and delighting in the floating feeling, I think it was when I heard news my dear Great Grandmother had died. I was standing at the top of the stairs no doubt gearing myself up when the phone call came. I snapped out of it when I heard my poor Mother become hysterical, seriously hysterical with grief almost putting her hands through the kitchen window to tell my Dad who was cutting the lawn. The first time my childhood was marred by death and the first time I understood it's gravity.
It must have been some kind of astral travel thing, but I never left the house. It
was always just me flying/floating down the stairs without touching any of them on the way down. It was fun 
