(FORTUNE Magazine) – Having finally clinched the Republican presidential nomination after 16 years and three tries, Bob Dole can afford to catch some spring sunshine outside his Capitol office on the marble porch he calls "the beach." As he sits looking 16 blocks west to the White House, it's easy to imagine him wondering: Should the treadmill go in the map room or the family room? Might as well plan. He can win, can't he?

Not if you believe the polls. Unanimously, they have Dole trailing Bill Clinton by double-digit figures. Well, forget them. Harold Wilson, the late British Prime Minister credited with popularizing the notion that a week is a long time in politics, would have snorted at the lunacy of anticipating the seven-month political infinity that looms before November 5. In April 1992, incumbent George Bush was running a healthy 16 percentage points ahead of Bill Clinton. In 1980, challenger Ronald Reagan was not only behind in April; he still trailed Jimmy Carter going into the last days of October. A week later, after Carter failed to win release of America's hostages in Iran, Reagan won 44 states. Depend on it. This race is going to tighten.

But can Dole really go all the way? Absolutely, provided he dodges two big pitfalls. First, if there is a third-party bid in the fall--headed by an independent like Ross Perot or a conservative like Pat Buchanan--Clinton wins. Either takes more away from Dole. (For a different view on Perot, see O Democracy.) The second pitfall is Dole's health. In addition to having an incapacitated right arm, he lost a kidney to war wounds and in 1991 battled prostate cancer. Though he shows great energy for a 72-year-old, he can't afford to catch cold before November. Barring those worries, though, he's in far better shape than current odds suggest.

Start with character. Yes, Dole is sometimes so carbide-edged he comes across as mean. But he's also a respected quantity, the known adult in this contest. "Dole easily passes the first test of basic acceptability," says Republican strategist Bob Teeter. "People would be comfortable with him as President." When presented with real lemons--Republican Barry Goldwater in 1964 or Democrat George McGovern in 1972--voters run away. Dole's 35 years of public service may be anathema to the anti-Beltway crowd, but he has earned top jobs, demonstrated that he is neither an extremist nor weird, and shown that he keeps his word. "Dole may not be warm and fuzzy," says lawyer Alan Gelfuso, a Republican activist in Rhode Island, "but over time he's been trustworthy and competent."

On the electoral map, which is where the White House is won, Dole begins with a built-in advantage. Ever since 1968, Republicans have nearly had a lock on the territory--called the "L" for its shape--that extends from Montana and Idaho south to Arizona and east to Virginia. Throw in such GOP perennials as New Hampshire and Indiana, and Republicans start with a base of more than 200 of the 270 electoral votes needed for election. Democrats, by contrast, can count on fewer than 100 electoral votes. The rest are always a fight.

Southern Democrats skew the calculus, but usually only their first time out. In 1976, running as an outsider, Jimmy Carter lost the West but did win ten Southern states. Four years later Carter, seen by then as an insider (and an incompetent one at that) won only his native Georgia. In 1992, Arkansas's Clinton and Tennessee's Al Gore ran as outsiders and as New (meaning conservative) Democrats, and won five Southern states. Down home this year, they'll be portrayed as insiders and as Old (meaning liberal) Democrats, and will meet a chillier reception.

Dole's main challenge in the Sunbelt is California, the largest prize, with 54 electoral votes. Clinton won the state four years ago, and the retro, septuagenarian Dole faces the same uphill struggle against hip chic and telegenics that George Bush lost. Dole has a better shot if consumer crusader Ralph Nader--no friend of Clinton's--follows through with plans to run in the fall on the Green Party ticket. A recent Field poll shows Nader taking 6% of the California vote, which could cripple Clinton. And if Clinton loses California, he loses his job.

Dole, though, can survive a defeat there as long as he adds to his base from two or more of the other traditional battlegrounds: Illinois, Ohio, Michigan, Pennsylvania, New York, and New Jersey. All have GOP governors--as do 31 of the 50 states--and offer the majority leader a powerful organizational network to tap.

Governors figure in another area that could give Dole a boost--his vice presidential pick. Here Dole has two options. The most popular, measured by column inches of press speculation, is to seek broader public support by tapping General Colin Powell. This may be more a moot call than a tough one. Powell hasn't budged from his position that he does not want to be considered.

Even if Powell did come in, he might not be the best choice. "There's a lot to be said for having the most popular man in America running with you," says Michael Deaver, a top Reagan adviser, "but how do you get past the bigger problem of putting a guy on the ticket with very different views on such core social issues as abortion and gun control?" Not easily. Dole will lose votes with a pro-life lineup, but he'll keep Ralph Reed and his Christian Coalition in the fold. "He can't afford to tick off the coalition," agrees Teeter. That politi-cal calculus also rules out pro-choice governors like Christie Whitman of New Jersey and Pete Wilson of California.

Option two is for Dole to tap a popular governor from the Midwest and nail down his state's electoral votes: someone like John Engler in Michigan (18 votes) or George Voinovich in Ohio (21 votes). "Engler or Voinovich each give you a big state you must have in a close race," argues Ed Rollins, a veteran GOP strategist. "That's the most sensible way to go."

Those two governors bring more to Dole than swing states. Both are conservative pro-lifers, with close ties to the kind of Reagan Democrats Dole must attract, and exemplify the popular idea of devolving power from Washington to the states. Choosing either would prevent an intraparty ideological rift and might--though it's probably too much to hope for--keep Pat Buchanan from foaming at the mouth straight through to November.

With a unified ticket Dole could--and should--ignore Buchanan and appeal directly to his supporters to keep them from bolting to a third party or sitting out the election. "Buchanan is the Republican Jesse Jackson," says Gerald Rafshoon, a former top adviser to Jimmy Carter. "Dole ought to do to Buchanan what Clinton did to Jesse on Sister Souljah: He blasted her. That's how you treat these people, because you're never going to placate them." A 1 a.m. speech slot in San Diego sounds about right.

Crafting legislation has always been Bob Dole's strongest suit. Between now and the August conventions, he can deploy that skill to define his campaign and put Clinton on the defensive. The President has vetoed balanced-budget legislation, welfare reform-- twice--and tax cuts. Now Dole should send up another welfare bill, another tax-cut bill, an immigration bill, a tax-reform plan, and a Medicare-reform bill that is not linked to the tax cuts that undermined the Republican proposal last year. "The GOP must go back on the offensive," says Republican pollster Frank Luntz. "When the party has an aggressive agenda, it wins."

But won't debating Clinton in the fall be a big hurdle for Dole? Sure. Despite his years in the Senate, the majority leader is a poor debater and knows it. In 1976, as Gerald Ford's vice presidential running mate, he sought a one-hour debate against his Democratic opposite, Walter Mondale. "I'm not sure I can keep my cool for 90 minutes," he told me then. At the one-hour mark against Mondale, he cracked and blamed "Democrat wars" for the century's savagery. It was the beginning of Ford's end. Twenty years later, and after keeping his cool this entire primary season, it's hard to believe the now carefully disciplined Dole would slip again so badly, but the President is bound to probe. When he does, Dole must make sure he forcefully reminds voters that the race is not least a referendum on Bill Clinton. If that's how this contest gets defined, pack up the treadmill. Call the movers.