I'm always a little amused at the difference between the way you think about writing stories versus the way they actually get done when you're sitting down and banging out words. Particularly when you've been at one for a while and just want to get through milestones.
It's all making sausage after a point. You dig in and make a big nasty mess. It squelches a lot, there's tiny greasy little bits you don't want to think about and...something happens. You're not sure what it is, and you don't want to root around inside what's coming out of the other end of the machine for fear that you'll lose your stomach for it. There's definitely verbiage on your hard drive and it makes you uneasy to look at it. You go back and redraft it, package it up neatly and very deliberately don't think about what's inside that slick exterior.
When someone compliments you on it, you just say it was all sunshine and inspiration. An elf rode up on a unicorn and delivered your manuscript to you straight from Castle Glitter in Happy Unicorn Butterfly Land. That's right, that's exactly how it all went down.
In my case, I had to split a chapter into two. While I don't have any sort of set notion of how long a chapter should be, my gut tells me it shouldn't be outside of four digits. When you're pushing into five, that's novella territory and really trying the reader's patience. So I did it. Had to split my outline up a bit. It felt weird.
I'm a little paranoid about going off the rails because I don't really want to make a hobby out of discarding novels. So I turned the crank and hopefully it'll work out for the better.