(FORTUNE Magazine) – You could be making pizza. You could be sorting mail. You could be arranging a deal between Spielberg and Yeltsin. At this moment, suddenly, time is money. The clock is ticking. Somebody's waiting for you to be finished, and what you do is going to count. You feel as if a frog crawled into your throat and died there.

And then there is a snap at the place where your spine meets your brain, and pow. Everything is easy. Your line of sight is clear. There is a rhythm in all you do. The telephone rings at the right time, with the right person on the other end of the line. Every move you make, every step you take, it's the right one. You are in the zone.

The sky above is crisp and blue and clear in the zone. You'd think, at this speed and altitude, there would be some noise. But there is none. Nothing but the feeling of space rushing past as you hurtle along at twice the speed of sound, every instrument on track, cruising through the day like a souped-up chariot of the gods. Nothing can touch you. No one can faze you. You are in the zone. The zone is in you.

Other times, however...not. The time of decision arrives and...pfft. Failure to zone is a tragic thing to see in an executive. There comes a little bulge around the eyes, which grow wide and too big for their sockets. Wings of hair puff out and up, making an organization man in a $1,200 suit look like a desperate consultant. Sweat marks appear when sport coats are removed. I have even seen one poor out-of-zone individual stalk about in an annual budget review with his shirttail dangling behind him like the rear appendage on a rhesus monkey. He suffered career death shortly thereafter.

Given the kind of stakes we're all playing for these days, I thought it might be helpful to look at some ways you can work to achieve a strong, consistent zone anytime you want. After that, it's fairly easy to modulate your zonage and, ultimately, create the particular zonal environment that's just right for you.

--Establishing the pre-zone. Most of your workday will be spent in subzonal posture. Hang easy. Play loose. Never get outside your game. Roll with the punches. Achieve economies of scale. Your job at this stage is not to blow your entire power pack out before it's necessary. All you need do is make darned sure that you're ready when it's time to launch.

--The leap. The task is at hand. The hour is nigh. The frost is on the pumpkin. The cat is out of the bag. Time to put the pedal to the metal. Possibly you are sitting down to a big table with a bunch of serious people who just might see how potentially stupid you can be. Or a brand-new customer walks through your door, jingling the bell as she steps into your place of business. An e-mail proposes something splendid, or horrific. You engage. Feel the burn. Lean into it. Achieve torque. Fly!

--The zone. Baseball players say that when they're going good at the plate, the ball as it comes in at 95 miles per hour can look as big as a grapefruit. So easy to smack. So...smack it. And keep on doing so. Once you're in there, a good zone can last for several hours without effort, unless you don't take care of it, or something malevolent actually seeks it out with an intent to do it harm.

--Zone maintenance. A lot of bad things can happen to a zone. Puncture, of course, is most common. You've got a perfectly good zone going, and in comes a call from a shareholder, who is, as you know, the boss. This particular shareholder, unfortunately, is also psychotic, and very angry about the effects that microwave emissions are having on freshwater salmon. Send him to Investor Relations! Immediately!

Likewise, cold or brittle zones are very easy to shatter. An ill-timed sandwich that leads to excessive rumination can do the evil trick. A spouse, brimming with news you can use...but not right now. Boom. Tinkle. No zone. And that's not all. Shrinkage. Clotting. Warping. Desalinization. All can easily occur due to shortages in energy, food, or, most probably, fluids, which are vital to keeping the zone sleek and well-lubricated.

Beyond drinks, a moist, aromatic cigar, enjoyed at the luminescent end of a beautiful zone, can prolong it, as can the right kind of music, or a candy bar, or even a focused meeting with a key adviser. However you choose to sustain your zone, don't take it for granted. Be aware! Buff it. Feed it. Polish it. If you do, your zone will never let you down.

--The end zone. Unfortunately, all zones must eventually pass. Even the most carefully cultivated and sustained eventually begin to lose luster, contract, and, at last, fall in upon themselves, leaving you a little bereft, emotionally naked, and somewhat ill prepared to operate on anything less than full octane. At this point, many may feel like locking the door and having their calls screened by a rabid secretarial pit bull.

Wrong. Excellent work can be done even when the full zone has departed, leaving nothing more than a pleasant after-zonal glow. In fact, this valley of relative quiescence offers a chance to operate not with the graceful abandon characteristic of the truly zoned, but with thoughtfulness, professionalism, and high technique as well. The mark of a true player is the ability to work out of the zone, to get those K's even when the fastball is hanging and the curve refuses to break. Who knows? While you're busy working, you just might get that zone back. Younger executives have been known to reestablish zone within 20 minutes. Older chaps, naturally, may have to be content to get a good zone going every other day or so.

--Your zone and you. Once you are able to find a generic zone, you can then reach to create a nimbus that expresses your life and style, one that is as unique as you are. There are, in fact, as many zones as there are people. Mine is bright yellow, with a light maroon tinge as it ages and gathers depth, and tends to be about the size of a small Buick.

Elise, my associate down the hall, a young woman with a rolodex the size and heft of a bowling ball, sports a zone made up of dozens of shades of green, perhaps because she's a vegetarian. In the next office is O'Shaughnessy, whose zone is almost black and hugs his body like a cape. The only person I never want to be is Waller, who works up on 20. Man has no zone at all. No matter what he's doing, he's nakedly, grotesquely azonal. He reminds me of one of those hairless, newborn rats they sell in cheap pet stores. So...unprotected. He's always willing to chat, to interrupt what he's doing to pursue your agenda. Nobody likes him, although I'm not sure they're aware that it's his zonelessness that makes him heinous.

Obviously, few have to labor in that state. But the zone is mysterious. Like physical strength or speed or musical pitch, you can't force it. All you can do is train yourself to improve the zone God gave you. That's your job, and your responsibility. So eat the right things. Make sure all your bacon strips are crisp, all your sauces completely deglazed. Stay away from too many brown drinks. And take the time to walk to and from any chauffeured vehicle. Your body is a temple. Prepare it. Be patient. And have faith.

To each his zone, that's what I always say.

By day, STANLEY BING is a real executive at a real FORTUNE 500 company he'd rather not name.