When you drove
It'll happen, probably in the first week. You'll be back from the shop with the milk and realise you drove, and that you never thought about it, and the keys were in your hand and then you were reversing. Then the thought will come that the rule's failed.
One drive isn't the week. The week's list will show a column with a few walks in it that wasn't there a fortnight ago, and one drive is one line on that list. What happened is that the default is fast, faster than a new rule, and it got through. It'll get through again. The rule is about the ratio, not about a perfect record.
Say the reason out loud, honestly. If there was one, "it was chucking it down", fine, that's the rule working. If there wasn't, "I had the keys in my hand", that's the information you need, because it tells you the keys are still somewhere the hand can find them without a decision. Move them.
Work out which default won. Was it the keys on the hook? The shoes not by the door? The trip you hadn't timed, so you still believed the car was quicker? A time of day when you're tired and the line goes soft? Each of those has a small fix in chapters 19 and 20, and none of them needs a fresh start.
There's a particular slip worth naming, which is the one that comes after a bad day. You're tired, it's dark, the shop's half a mile off and the keys are in the drawer, and you go to the drawer and take them. That's not the default. That's a decision, made with the line in view, and it was a poor one but it was yours. The rule allows for those. What it asks is that you notice you made it, and that "I was tired" gets said out loud and weighed against chapter 13, which found that the walk is the thing that fixes the tiredness. Next time you're at the drawer, the memory of that chapter is what you take instead of the keys.
No streaks. Don't count days without a drive. Count walks in the week, and watch the number go up. A streak makes one drive feel like losing something, and you haven't lost anything. You've driven half a mile, which you've been doing for years, and tomorrow the shoes are by the door.